THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER 

Romance 


BY 

HANS   CHRISTIAN  ANDERSEN 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE   IMPROVISATORE,"    ETC. 

AUTHOR'S   EDITION 


BOSTON   AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
CambriDge 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 


CHAPTER  I. 

*  Among  those  ruins,  which  occupy  a  circuit  of  two  miles,  the  great 
temple  is  prominent  over  all  the  others,  having  almost  completely  pre- 
served its  portico.  It  produces  an  almost  startling  effect,  on  the  very  toj 
of  the  pediment,  straight  over  the  head  of  the  golden  eagle,  to  see  now  ? 
stork's  nest.  It  is  a  pity  that  its  inhabitants  just  now  should  have  moved 
to  their  summer  country-seat  in  Europe,  so  that  perhaps  some  of  my 
friendly  readers  may  have  seen  the  proprietor  stalking  solemnly  about, 
while  for  me  the  empty  nest  only  was  left  to  contemplate.  "  —  Semilasso  t* 
Africa. 

WHEN  the  snow  melts  and  the  woods  again  become 
green,  the  storks  return  from  their  long  journey. 
They  have  been  in  far  Africa,  have  drunk  of  the  waters  of  the 
Nile,  and  rested  on  the  pyramids.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
Sicilian  coasts  and  of  the  promontory  of  Messina  relate  how, 
at  a  certain  time  every  year,  the  storks  come  over  the  sea  in 
great  flocks  to  rest  themselves  on  the  slopes  of  the  mountains, 
which  are  then  wholly  covered  by  these  creatures.  Suddenly 
they  again  arise,  and  wing  their  way  toward  the  north,  over 
the  snow  and  clouds  of  the  Alps,  where  the  great  multitude 
divides  itself  into  smaller  companies.  The  smallest  knows,  as 
well  as  the  largest,  how  to  direct  itself  toward  the  land  where 
it  has  its  home  :  and  it  is  not  the  smallest  band  which  flies 
toward  little  Denmark.  Each  one  knows  the  bay  whither  he 
must  direct  his  course,  knows  the  clump  of  trees,  and  the  white 
chimney  on  the  indented  gable  of  the  hall,  where  the  empty 
nest  awaits  him.  Strange,  mystical  bird  !  Upon  thy  back 
rides  spring  into  the  land ;  the  forests  become  green,  the  grass 
grows  more  joyously,  the  air  becomes  warmer. 

Such  a  pair  had  returned  ;    their  nest  stood  on  a  farm-house 


2040339 


2  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

situated  on  a  road  leading  from  the  town  of  Svendborg.  They 
were  both  in  the  greatest  activity,  carrying  into  their  nest, 
which  needed  repairs,  a  long  straw  band,  three  yards  in  length, 
which  they  had  found  in  a  field.  Their  industry  was  observed, 
and  occasioned  some  talk  in  a  little  neighboring  court-yard 
The  only  peculiarities  about  the  man  in  the  court  were  a  dark 
mustache  and  a  cap,  the  top  of  which,  like  that  of  the  Neapoli- 
tan, hung  to  one  side.  He  leaned  against  the  frame  of  an  open 
window.  In  the  room  sat  an  equally  powerful  form  upon  a 
table  ;  a  tschako  would  have  suited  better  with  the  dark  hair 
than  the  white  cap,  a  sabre  better  in  his  hand  than  the  needle 
which  now  figured  between  the  fingers.  The  man  before  the 
window  was  a  sergeant ;  the  figure  on  the  table  a  master-tailor. 
A  little  boy  pressed  his  nose  against  the  window  to  see  the 
storks. 

"  Droll  creatures  ! "  said  the  sergeant,  curling  his  mus- 
tache ;  "  not  for  a  whole  month's  pay  should  I  like  to  shoot 
one  of  them  !  They  bring  good  luck  wherever  they  build  theii 
nest ;  therefore  the  Jew  has  them  also." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  tailor,  "  they  build  on  the  Jew's 
house,  but  we  have  the  advantage.  Year  after  year  they  give 
their  tithe  :  one  year,  an  egg  ;  the  next,  a  young  one.  They 
stick  their  pointed  beaks  through  his  neck,  and  then  hoist  him 
out  of  the  nest.  Otherwise,  it  is  quite  fun,  when  they  feed 
their  young,  or  teach  them  to  fly.  The  old  ones,  especially  at 
feeding-times,  play  curious  pranks.  They  stand  straight  up  in 
the  nest,  bend  their  necks  over  their  backs,  their  beaks  over 
their  tails,  just  as  when  a  juggler  bends  backward  to  pick  up 
a  piece  of  money  from  the  ground.  First  of  ali,  they  draw  in 
their  necks,  and  then  dart  them  out  again,  to  present  nice  lit- 
tle frogs  and  snails  with  which  the  young  ones  are  feasted. 
But  the  most  amusing  thing  to  see  is  when  the  young  birds  are 
taught  to  fly.  The  maneuver  generally  takes  place  on  the 
roof.  The  little  ones  go  along,  balancing  themselves  with  their 
wings,  like  rope-dancers  on  a  rope,  and  commence  with  little 
springs,  for  they  are  very  heavy.  Every  time  when  I  see  the 
storks  returning  from  their  long  journey,  it  seems  to  me  no 
other  ';han  if  I  myseif  had  returned  from  my  long  wander- 
ing. Then  I  have  a'l  kinds  of  thoughts:  I  remember  tb« 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  3 

high  mountains  up  which  I  climbed ;  the  beautiful  cities  where 
the  houses  were  palaces,  and  where  the  churches  were  rilled 
with  wealth,  like  the  emperor's  treasures.  Yes,  it  is  glorious 
abroad  !  "  sighed  he  ;  "  there,  it  is  summer  the  greater  part  of 
the  year.  The  dear  Lord  has  made  us  pretty  much  his  step- 
children. But  what  was  I  going  to  say?  We  were  speaking 
of  the  storks.  People  are  not  yet  able  properly  to  understand 
the  peculiarities  of  these  birds.  Before  they  depart,  they  reg- 
ularly assemble  at  certain  places  in  the  country.  I  have  seen 
them  by  hundreds  at  Quarndrup.  It  was  a  thorough  maneuver 
which  they  had  there.  They  all  struck  their  bills  together  at 
once,  so  loudly  that  one  could  not  hear  a  single  word  for  them. 
No  doubt  they  were  chattering  about  the  journey  which  lay 
before  them.  They  deliberated  among  themselves ;  and  sud- 
denly the  greater  portion  fell  upon  the  few  remaining  onesf 
and  killed  them.  There  lay  ten  dead  on  the  spot.  People 
said  it  was  the  weak  ones,  which  had  not  strength  sufficient  for 
the  long  journey,  that  they  had  killed.  Then  the  whole  band 
rises  toward  heaven,  making  spirals  in  the  air  like  a  cork- 
screw. Good  Heavens !  how  high  these  birds  can  soar !  They 
resemble,  at  last,  a  swarm  of  bees,  and  then  they  vanish.  The 
yolk  in  their  eggs  is  blood-red ;  one  can  see  that  it  is  a  sum- 
mer-bird which  has  laid  them." 

"  Did  the  stork  bring  me  also  out  of  the  hot  countries  ? " 
asked  the  little  boy,  who  still  lay  with  his  nose  against  the 
window,  although  he  had  heard  every  word  which  was  spoken. 

"  He  picked  thee  out  of  the  mill-dam,"  replied  the  father. 
"  Thou  knowest  that  little  children  are  brought  out  of  the 
mill-dam." 

"  But  they  have  no  clothes  on,"  said  the  boy :  "  how  can 
the  stork,  then,  know  which  are  boys  and  which  girls  ?" 

"Yes,  on  that  account  he  often  brings  up  a  wrong  one," 
returned  the  sergeant ;  "  he  brings  us  a  boy  when  we  expect 
a  girl." 

"  Shall  we  not  pass  from  the  stork  to  the  lark  ? "  observed 
the  tailor,  jestingly,  whilst  he  took  a  blue  bottle  down  from  the 
cupboard,  which  was  decorated  with  cups  and  cans  ;  and 
amidst  which  sat  a  doll,  iust  such  as  in  Catholic  countries  one 
«ees  the  Mother  of  God  represented  by. 


4  ONLY  A  FIDDLERS 

"  Mother  Maria  sits  there  very  nicely,"  said  the  sergeant, 
pointing  toward  the  doll.  "You  have  dressed  her  yourself, 
doubtless  ? " 

"  The  head  is  out  of  Austria,"  answered  the  tailor ;  "  the 
clothes  I  have  sewn  myself.  Such  things  remind  me  of  the 
journeys  of  my  youth.  Such  a  figure  as  this  the  children  had 
placed  on  the  table  before  the  door  ;  little  candles  burned  near  \ 
and  they  begged  from  the  passers-by.  It  is  the  Madonna's  birth- 
day, said  they.  But  you  should  see  my  changing-picture  !  I 
have  made  it  myself."  He  pointed  to  a  badly  painted  picture 
in  a  large  frame.  "  It  represents  Dr.  Faust,  as  he  sits  in  the 
middle  of  his  study.  On  one  side  stands  a  clock  ;  it  is  twelve 
o'clock  at  night :  on  the  other  side  lies  the  Bible.  Pull  the 
string,  there,  on  the  left.  See  !  the  clock  changes  into  a  devil, 
who  leads  Faust  into  temptation.  Now,  we  will  pull  this 
string  on  the  right,  and  the  Bible  opens,  an  angel  comes  forth 
from  the  leaves  and  speaks  words  of  peace."  As  he  had  said, 
so  did  it  happen  ;  and  near  each  figure  came,  at  the  same 
time,  a  motto  to  view,  containing  the  temptation  of  the  devil 
and  the  warning  of  the  angel.  The  tailor  again  pulled  the 
string  on  the  right  hand  ;  the  angel  returned  into  the  Bible 
and  vanished  ;  the  devil  only  remained  with  Faust. 

"  Zounds  !  "  cried  the  sergeant ;  "  have  you  contrived  that  ? 
You  ought  not  to  be  a  tailor ;  you  have  a  head-piece  !  " 

"  I  have  put  this  picture  together  in  imitation  of  a  similar 
one  I  saw  in  Germany:  the  machinery  I  invented  myself. 
Neither  is  the  history  of  Faust  my  invention  :  I  saw  it,  during 
my  travels,  in  a  puppet-show.  The  angel  rose  out  of  the  Bi- 
ble to  warn  Faust;  but  the  clock  changed  into  Satan,  who 
gained  power  over  the  doctor,  when  the  angel  retired  and  the 
book  closed.  This  same  Faust  had  an  amanuensis.  He  knew 
the  whole  compact,  and  was  himself  on  a  dangerous  path,  but 
he  drew  back  at  the  right  time.  Poor  and  miserable,  one 
sees  him  in  the  last  act,  where  he  is  a  watchman  in  the  town 
in  which  Faust  lives.  He  knows  that  the  devil  will  come  to 
fetch  his  master  so  soon  as  he  shall  have  announced  twelve 
o'clock.  One  hears  it  strike  twelve.  The  amanuensis,  fold- 
ing his  hands,  calls  out,  '  The  bell  has ,'  he  dare  not  pro- 
nounce '  twelve,'  bu*  merely  lisps  '  tolled.  But  that  doei 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  5 

not  help  him  ;  Faust  is  borne  away  on  red  flames  through  the 
window." 

"  You  are  not  made  to  sit  upon  a  table,"  said  the  sergeant  ; 
u  you  only  live  in  travelling  and  marching.  In  the  field,  that 
would  be  the  life  for  you!  Forward  1  March  1  The  badge 
of  honor  on  your  breast !  Before  a  year  is  past  you  will  be  a 
sergeant ! " 

"And  my  wife  and  child?"  asked  the  tailor.  "The  lad 
must  then  follow  as  piper,  and  she  as  a  sutleress !  That  would 
be  no  life  for  them !  No,  one  must  be  free  and  alone,  and 
then  the  whole  world  is  open  before  one  1  Those  were  beau- 
tiful days  when,  for  five  whole  years,  I  was  my  own  master ! 
You  see,  sergeant,  I  was  then  just  nineteen,  and  had  neither 
father  nor  mother,  nor  any  sweetheart  either.  Faaborg  is  a 
pretty  little  town,  and  there  was  I  born  and  apprenticed.  The 
neighbor's  Marie  was  already  woman  grown,  whilst  I  was  still 
called  the  lad ;  therefore  was  I  no  little  proud  when  the  pretty 
girl,  whom  so  many  wooed,  often  extended  her  hand,  and 
smiled  upon  me  in  a  friendly  manner :  but  that  she  should  be- 
come my  bride,  my  thoughts  never  rose  so  high  !  I  wished 
to  travel  as  soon  as  I  became  a  journeyman ;  the  world,  about 
which  I  had  heard  and  read  so  much,  I  wished  to  see  and  be- 
come acquainted  with.  Therefore,  when  the  master-piece  had 
succeeded  and  my  savings  had  been  counted,  my  knapsack 
was  strapped  together,  and  I  bade  adieu  to  all  my  friends. 
Now,  in  Faaborg,  the  church  is  at  one  end  of  the  town,  the 
tower  at  the  other.  In  the  evening  before  my  journey,  as  I 
was  passing  the  tower,  Marie  met  me.  She  threw  her  arms 
round  my  neck,  and  kissed  me  on  the  lips.  It  was  like  fire, 
and  never  again  did  a  kiss  from  any  girl  so  penetrate  to  my 
heart;  I  wished  that  the  whole  world  had  seen  how  Marie 
kissed  me.  The  town  has  no  watch,  and  only  on  the  tower 
wall  stand  two  painted  watchmen,  the  size  of  life :  they  still 
stand  there,  for  they  are  painted  up  every  year.  How  I  wished 
they  had  been  alive !  I  could  not  avoid  saying  to  myself,  in 
my  heart.  '  You  have  seen  how  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the 
world  has  kissed  me ! ' " 

"  So,  doubtless,  you  were  engaged  tD  each  other  ? "  observed 
the  sergeant. 


6  ONLY  A  FIDDLER} 

"By  no  means,"  returned  the  tailor.  "I  was  as  if  bcrn 
again,  and  my  journey  was  commenced  with  a  joyous  mood. 
Five  long  years  I  travelled  from  one  country  to  another , 
agreeable  people,  excellent  masters  I  met  with,  but  nowhere 
had  I  peace." 

"  And  Marie's  kiss  was  a  bait  to  you  ;  you  took  pleasure  in 
the  company  of  girls  !  " 

"  Now,  I  will  not  make  myself  out  better  than  I  am  ;  but 
it  is  true  that  the  first  time  when  I  abroad  flung  my  arm 
round  another  girl,  and  received  a  kiss  from  her,  my  thoughts 
returned  to  Marie  ;  it  was  to  me  as  if  she  saw  us,  and  the 
blood  rushed  to  my  face.  I  never  felt  myself  forlorn  among 
strangers,  and  often  when  I  had  worked  a  few  weeks  in  a 
town  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  I  had  always  worked  there, 
as  though  I  had  always  sung  songs  with  my  companions. 
Only  when  I  saw  anything  which  made  me  feel  completely 
away  from  home,  such  as  the  old  Church  of  St.  Stephen's  in 
Vienna,  or  the  lofty  mountains  shrouded  in  clouds,  did 
Faaborg  stand  before  my  eyes,  and  all  my  old  acquaintance  ; 
and  whilst  my  eyes  became  moist  at  seeing  all  this  splendor 
of  the  world,  I  thought  involuntarily  of  the  tower  in  my  native 
town,  and  of  the  watchmen  who  had  seen  how  Marie  kissed 
me,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  would  be  still  more  beautiful 
in  these  foreign  countries  were  the  old  tower  with  its  painted 
watchmen  there,  and  Marie  beside  it  in  her  gay  bodice  and 
green  skirt.  But  I  whistled  a  little  song,  and  my  gayety  soon 
returned.  Huzza !  thus  I  wandered  with  my  companions  fur- 
ther into  the  world  !  " 

"  But  here  with  us  it  is  also  beautiful ! "  interrupted  the 
sergeant. 

"  Yes  truly,  sergeant,  there  you  are  right !  When  the  fruit- 
trees  are  in  bloom,  the  corn-fields  are  as  odorous  as  a  pot- 
pourri! But  you  should  only  see  how  it  is  yonder,  when  one 
passes  those  mountains  —  the  Alps,  as  they  call  them  !  It  is 
just  as  though  a  large  garden  lay  before  one,  a  garden  which 
completely  cuts  out  the  Glorup  garden,  and  leaves  all  royal 
gardens  completely  behind  it.  Marble,  white  as  sugar,  they 
hew  out  of  the  mountains,  and  grapes  hang  there  as  large  as 
our  plums.  Three  years  I  remained  there.  Once  a  lettei 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  J 

reached  me  from  my  sister's  child  out  of  Home,  and  on  the 
margin  stood  the  words,  '  Marie  greets  thee,  and  btgs  not  to 
be  forgotten  : '  they  were  from  her  own  hand.  Then  my  heart 
became  tender.  1  knew  well  that  it  was  love  which  I  felt  for 
Marie,  and  I  had  no  longer  any  rest.  A  mighty  yearning 
came  over  me,  and  I  must  away.  Many  nights  I  wandered 
solitarily  along  the  road,  past  convents,  through  narrow  village 
ways,  over  hill  and  dale.  At  length  I  heard  again  the  Danish 
tongue,  saw  the  spires  of  Home,  the  heath-hills  at  Faaborg ; 
and  when  I  sought  Marie's  hand  she  said  '  Yes  ! '  Since 
then  I  have  travelled  no  more  ;  I  look  at  the  storks  when 
they  depart  and  rejoice  in  their  return.  Yet,  sometimes,  I 
am  not  quite  cheerful ;  but  then  Marie  has  her  own  way  of 
consoling  one.  Once  a  year  we  sail  to  Thorseng,  and  take  a 
little  exercise  there.  That  is  also  travelling !  The  longer 
journeys  the  lad  can  take  when  he  is  grown  up  !  There  is 
courage  in  the  lad.  sergeant ! " 

"  Therefore  he  shall  drink  of  this  clear  stuff,"  replied  the 
sergeant,  and  gave  the  little  boy  a  half- filled  glass.  The  lad 
seized  the  glass  with  both  hands,  and  drank  out  of  it  till  the 
tears  ran  out  of  his  eyes. 

"  Here  we  have  our  little  mistress  !  "  cried  the  sergeant,  as 
the  mother  entered  the  room  at  that  moment.  The  full  form 
and  large  brown  eyes  might  have  well  recalled  a  heart  from 
out  the  south. 

A  somewhat  severe  glance  was  cast  on  the  husband  ;  a 
short,  but  friendly  greeting  given  to  the  sergeant,  who  tapped 
her  in  a  friendly  manner  on  the  shoulder.  "  The  whole  love- 
story  I  have  heard,"  said  he  ;  "  have  been  with  the  master  in 
the  east  and  in  the  west." 

"Yes,  he  has  nothing  else  to  do,"  replied  she  rather  shortly, 
took  off  her  shawl,  and  laid  it  in  the  drawer.  "  He  should 
•ave  remained  there  if  it  was  so  splendid.  God  may  know 
what  he  sought  for  here  !  Now  it  is  too  cold  ;  again  it  rains 
too  much  !  Therefore  I  say  to  him  so  often  :  '  Travel !  no  one 
keeps  thee  back.  I  can  again  go  into  service,  and  I  shall 
earn  bread  enough  for  the  boy.'  " 

"  Marie,"  said  the  husband,  "  that  thou  dost  not  really 
Mean  !  Had  I  not  returned  thou  wouldst,  perhaps,  still  have 
had  no  husband." 


8  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

11 1  might  have  had  three  for  one.  The  farmer's  sou  from 
Orebak  courted  me  \  but  I  was  then  such  a  fool  as  we  women 
are,  alas !  only  too  often." 

"  Thou  hast  not  repented ! "  said  the  husband,  with  a 
friendly  manner,  and  laid  his  cheek  against  hers.  She  gave 
him  a  kiss,  smiled,  and  went  into  the  kitchen,  where  soon  the 
fish  was  cooking  for  their  small  meal. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  So  they  walked  among  flowers,  embraced  each  other,  and  trtmb'.ed  with 
joy."  —  OEHLENSCHLAGER 

IN  country  towns,  generally,  each  house  has  a  garden,  but 
the  tailor's  house  had  none.  Yet  one  must  have  some 
sort  of  a  garden,  if  it  be  only  to  grow  a  little  garlic  in,  and 
this  they  had  managed.  It  was,  if  we  may  be  allowed  to  say 
so,  a  kind  of  hanging  garden,  such  as  the  poor  in  northern 
countries  possess.  A  large  box  filled  with  earth  was  their 
garden ;  it  was  fastened  up  high  on  the  roof  of  the  neighbor- 
ing house,  so  that  the  ducks  might  not  get  to  it. 

Is  green  stuff  wanted  for  the  kitchen,  a  ladder  must  be  put 
up  to  the  box ;  and  this  had  to  be  done  out  of  the  kitchen. 
Between  the  shelves,  ornamented  with  their  pewter-plates  and 
dishes,  and  the  hearth,  was  the  ladder  fixed  ;  one  person  held 
the  unsteady  stairs  whilst  the  other  ascended  to  the  ceiling, 
and,  with  half  their  body  protruding  through  the  opening, 
reached  the  garden.  It  was,  indeed,  a  joy  for  the  little  lad 
vhen  his  turn  came  to  climb  up  the  ladder !  Once  he  had 
been  permitted,  swinging  in  his  mother's  arms,  to  ascend  out 
of  the  opening,  and  even  touch  the  edge  of  the  box  with  his 
feet. 

"  We  have,  perhaps,  more  enjoyment  in  our  box,"  said 
Marie,  "  than  the  Jew  has  in  his  beautiful  garden. 

"  But  we  should  very  well  like  to  have  his  garden,"  replied 
the  husband.  "Beautiful  flowers  are  said  to  grow  in  it  — 
splendid  plants,  which  grow  in  no  other  garden  here  in  Svend- 
borg.  On  summer  evenings,  when  the  wind  blows  in  this 
direction,  we  can  smell  the  jasmine.  Often  the  desire  has 
seized  upon  me  to  climb  up  to  the  stork's  nest,  so  that  I  might 
'ook  down  into  the  garden.  Marie,  that  proud  poplar  which 
rises  high  over  the  house  can  stir  strange  thoughts  within  me. 
When  in  summer  the  full  moon  shines,  it  stands  out  so  strangely 


1O  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

contrasted  against  the  blue  heaven  ;  it  is  then  as  If  I  saw  the 
large  cypresses  in  Italy.  Then,  often  when  thou  hast  slept,  I 
have  got  up  and  opened  the  window,  and  if  a  gentle  breeze 
has  borne  to  me  the  scent  of  the  jasmine  I  have  fancied  myself 
in  Italy." 

"  Am  I  again  to  hear  these  speeches  ? "  said  Marie,  and 
turned  her  back  ;  but  the  little  boy  listened  with  open  ears  to 
his  father's  accounts.  How  willingly  would  he  also  have  flown 
with  the  storks  to  strange  countries !  Yes,  how  happy  would 
he  have  felt,  could  he  only  once  have  sat  on  the  roof  so  as  to 
see  the  Jew's  garden !  A  mysterious  world  moved  there. 
Once  he  had  been  with  his  mother  in  the  house,  and  had  seen 
the  Feast  of  Tabernacles.  Never  could  he  forget  the  beauti- 
ful vaults  of  fir-trees,  the  heads  of  asparagus,  the  splendid 
pomegranates  under  ,the  ceiling,  and  the  fine  unleavened  bread. 
In  the  long  winter  evenings  the  father  read  aloud  out  of  the 
"  Arabian  Nights  ; "  his  father's  own  travels  sounded  to  him 
equally  full  of  adventure ;  the  stork  was  in  his  imagination  a 
mysterious  creature,  like  the  roc  ;  and  the  Jew's  garden,  which 
he  had  never  seen,  was  like  the  home  of  Scheherazade  with 
the  golden  fountain  and  the  talking  bird. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  July.  The  little  fellow  played  in  the 
turf-shed  which  formed  the  boundary  between  his  home  and 
his  fairy-land.  At  one  end  of  the  little  house  some  stones  had 
got  displaced.  The  boy  knelt  down  to  spy  through  the  crevice 
in  the  wall,  but  he  could  only  see  a  few  green  leaves  which 
were  shone  upon  by  the  sun.  With  a  trembling  hand  he  ven- 
tured to  loosen  a  stone  ;  those  that  lay  upon  it  tumbled  down  ; 
his  heart  beat,  he  did  not  dare  to  move.  After  a  few  moments 
he  again  summoned  courage.  The  opening  in  the  wall  was 
become  larger,  but  still  he  could  only  overlook  the  domain  of 
a  strawberry-bed  ;  but  to  the  boy's  imagination  there  lay  in 
this  a  feeling  of  wealth,  such  as  a  grown-up  person  experiences 
at  sight  of  a  fruit-tree  overladen  with  fruit,  when  the  branches, 
bowed  by  the  rich  weight,  bend  toward  the  earth.  The  leaves 
were  large  and  full,  though  a  few  shone  in  the  sun  ;  others,  on 
the  contrary,  retired  into  the  shade  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  this 
luxuriant  abundance  hung  two  •  ipe  berries,  so  fresh  and  red  I 
The  grapes  of  Canaan  coulc'  lot  have  excited  more  glowing 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  II 

ideas  of  fruitfulness  than  did  those  two  strawberries  I     But  in 
the  contemplation  lay  also  the  temptation  of  gathering  them 
but  that  was  not  to  be  attempted :  to  have  loosened  a  stone 
was  sin  enough  for  one  day. 

The  following  afternoon  the  stones  still  lay  as  ever.  The 
green  leaves  quivered  before  the  opening  from  the  air,  and  the 
berries  yet  hung  there  !  Then  did  the  little  hand  move  wit'i 
fear  and  touch  the  berries,  but  without  gathering  them.  Bt 
when  the  little  hand  a  second  time  touched  the  enchanting 
fruit,  and  the  fingers  had  already  surrounded  the  stems,  did 
another  little  hand  touch  his,  and  he  drew  it  away  so  quickly 
that  another  stone  fell  out.  He  hid  himself  in  fear,  and  only 
after  a  few  minutes  of  expectation  did  he  venture  to  glide  forth 
and  look  through  the  opening.  A  pair  of  large  brown  eyes 
met  his  glance,  but  they  vanished  again  as  quickly  ;  soon,  how- 
ever, showing  themselves  again.  They  were  the  eyes  of  a 
sweet  little  girl ;  full  of  curiosity  waited  she,  at  a  prudent  dis- 
tance from  the  opening. 

It  was  Naomi,  the  child  of  the  Jew's  daughter,  who  was  only 
a  few  years  younger  than  the  boy,  and  who  was  already  known 
to  him.  He  had  seen  her  standing  at  her  grandfather's  win- 
dows ;  she  had  then  little  yellow  laced  boots  on,  and  these  had 
made  an  inextinguishable  impression  on  him. 

For  some  time  the  children  gazed  at  each  other  without 
moving.  "  Little  boy  !  "  said  Naomi,  after  some  time,  "  thou 
mayest  come  into  the  garden  to  me  ;  make  the  hole  larger !  " 

And,  as  though  a  powerful  fairy  had  commanded  it,  down 
slid  two  more  stones. 

"  What  art  thou  called  ? "  asked  she. 

"  Christian,"  answered  the  boy,  as  he  thrust  out  his  head 
into  the  garden,  which  was  warmly  shone  upon  by  the  sun. 
Naomi  pushed  aside  the  vine-leaves  which  shaded  the  wall, 
and  Christian  stood  in  the  land  of  his  dreams,  forgetting  him 
self  in  contemplation. 

An  older  person  would  only  have  seen  here  a  pretty  little 
garden  full  of  rare  flowers,  vines  trained  along  the  walls,  a  pop- 
lar, and  at  some  distance  two  acacias :  but  we  must  see  things 
»s  the  one  who  had  just  entered  saw  them  ;  we  must,  like  him, 
breathe  the  strong  odor  of  flowers,  feel  the  warm  sunbeams, 
behold  the  rich  splendor. 


12  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

Luxuriant,  broad-leaved  vines,  the  odorous  hciveysuckle,  and 
blue  and  red  convolvuli  crept  over  the  wall,  and  formed  a 
kind  of  tapestry.  A  crescent-shaped  thicket  of  moss-roses 
closed  around  splendid  stocks  of  unusual  varieties  of  color, 
from  a  deep  purple  to  snow-white  ;  their  fragrance  seemed  to 
overpower  all  other  odors.  Beside  the  poplar,  round  which 
twined  the  dark  green  ivy  with  its  firm  leaves,  stood  Naomi, 
the  lovely  child  with  the  gazelle-eyes,  and  the  brown  complex- 
ion which  betrayed  her  Asiatic  extraction ;  but  the  blood  shone 
fresh  and  beautiful  through  her  round  cheeks,  shaded  by  her 
raven  hair.  A  dark  dress,  confined  by  a  leathern  girdle,  en- 
veloped her  slender  little  form. 

She  drew  him  to  the  bench  under  the  acacia,  where  the  pale 
red  blossom  hung  down  in  thick  bunches.  The  most  beauti- 
ful strawberries  were  gathered.  The  boy  looked  around  him, 
and  imagined  himself  transported  into  another  world,  which 
lay  far  from  his  home.  Then  the  stork  on  the  roof  clattered 
with  his  bill,  and  Christian  recognized  the  nest  and  young 
ones  which  stood  in  it,  and  which  seemed  to  observe  him  with 
their  wise  eyes.  And  he  thought  of  his  parents'  little  court- 
yard, of  the  box  with  the  garlic,  and  of  the  eaves  of  the  neigh- 
bor's house  ;  and  he  was  astonished  to  be  so  near  them  :  the 
stork  could  overlook  all. 

Naomi  now  took  him  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  the 
small  garden-house,  which  could  scarcely  have  contained  four 
people,  but  to  the  children  it  was  a  splendid  hall.  The  imag- 
ination of  children  can  form  castles  and  palaces  out  of  sand. 

A  single  window  of  dark-red  glass  threw  a  magical  light 
over  the  dark  hangings  of  the  walls,  which  represented  all 
kinds  of  animals  with  flowers  ;  an  ostrich-egg,  which  from  the 
•uddy  light  assumed  a  peculiar  color,  hung  under  the  arched 
roof.  Naomi  pointed  to  the  window ;  Christian  hastened 
within,  and  there  lay  everything  without  in  the  most  wonder- 
ful light.  He  was  obliged  to  think  of  the  burning  mountain, 
about  which  his  father  had  told  him.  All  objects  lay  as  in  a 
sea  of  flame ;  every  bush  and  every  flower  glowed  ;  the  clouds 
appeared  fire  upon  a  fiery  ground  ;  the  stork  itself,  the  nest, 
and  the  young  ones  afll  glittered. 

"  It  burns ! "  cried  the  boy  :   but  Naomi  laughed  at  him 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  I  3 

and  clapped  her  little  hands.     As  soon  as  the  children  looked 
at  each  other  through  the  open  door,  everything  assumed  its 
natural  hue  ;  nay,  the  green  grass  seemed  to  them  still  mor 
lovely  than  before.    The  flowers  had  again  their  varied  colors 
the  stork  was  again  white,  and  had  red  legs  as  always. 

"  Shall  we  play  at  selling  money  ?  "  asked  little  Naomi, 
drawing  a  straw  through  two  leaves.  TMs  was  to  represent 
the  scales  ;  yellow,  red,  and  blue  leaves  meant  gold. 

"  The  red  are  the  best,"  said  she.  "  Thou  must  buy,  but 
thou  must  give  me  something ;  that  is  the  pledge.  Thou  canst 
give  me  thy  mouth ;  we  are  only  playing,  I  will  not  really 
keep  it.  Then  thou  wilt  give  me  thy  eyes,  also."  She  made  a 
motion  with  her  hand,  as  though  she  would  take  them  both, 
and  Christian  received  red  as  well  as  blue  and  yellow  leaves. 
Never  had  he  played  so  gloriously  ! 

"  Good  Heavens,  Christian !  art  thou  there  in  the  garden  ? " 
suddenly  cried  his  mother  through  the  opening  in  the  wall. 

Terrified,  the  boy  let  go  Naomi's  hand,  and  crept  back 
through  the  hole  to  the  paternal  domain,  where  his  reception 
consisted  in  several  rather  heavy  blows  on  his  shoulders.  The 
stones  were  then  replaced,  and  similar  tricks,  as  Marie  called 
them,  forbidden  in  future.  Over  her  work,  however,  she  de- 
layed a  little,  looked  at  the  garden,  gathered  the  nearest  straw 
berries,  and  put  them  into  her  mouth. 

The  following  morning  on  the  garden  side  a  wooden  wall 
was  placed  against  the  opening.  Probably  Naomi  had  men- 
tioned the  visit.  In  vain  did  Christian  press  the  stones  against 
the  boards,  dared  even  to  knock  at  them  ;  the  entrance  to  the 
beautiful  flower-land  was  closed. 

The  whole  splendor,  the  trees  and  the  flowers,  the  red  win 
dows,  and  the  beautiful  Naomi,  stood  before  his  eyes  ;  in  the 
evening  he  thought  of  them  sc  long  that  sleep  overpowered 
him. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"The  pillars  of  smoke  like  whirlwinds  appear, 
And  shrieks  for  help  salute  the  ear." 

GAUDY'S  Songs  of  Empire. 

IT  was  night  when  Christian  again  woke  ;  a  strange  rudd) 
light,  like  that  which  he  had  seen  through  the  colored 
glass,  illuminated  the  room.  He  stretched  his  head  out  of 
bed :  yes  !  the  window-frames  had  the  same  fiery  color,  the 
heavens  the  same  burning  brightness  ;  the  dark  poplar  ap- 
peared to  glow ;  it  was  indeed  a  joy  to  him  to  see  these  fiery 
colors  once  again. 

Suddenly  there  resounded  a  cry ;  his  parents  sprang  out  of 
bed,  the  call  of  fire  was  heard.  The  whole  of  the  Jew's  house 
stood  in  flames  ;  a  shower  of  sparks  fell  in  the  neighboring 
courts  ;  the  heaven  was  of  a  red  hue,  and  the  fire  shot  up- 
ward in  long  tongues  of  flame.  Marie  gave  her  boy  over  to 
the  care  of  her  opposite  neighbor,  and  busied  herself  in  col- 
lecting together,  in  the  greatest  haste,  her  most  valuable 
possessions,  for  the  fire  had  already  seized  upon  the  neighbor- 
ing house  with  the  stork's  nest. 

The  old  Jew  had  his  sleeping-room  on  the  ground-floor,  but 
he  still  slept,  whilst  the  flames  had  already  spun  around  him 
their  deadly  net.  With  the  aid  of  an  axe  the  tailor  broke  a 
hole  through  the  wall,  and  went  in,  accompanied  by  some 
neighbors.  There  it  was  hot  like  the  glow  of  an  oven,  but 
the  wind  bore  the  dazzling  sparks  over  their  heads. 

Still  the  fire-bell  did  not  sound ;  the  watchmen  shouted, 
but  their  whistles  were  silent.  One  had  left  his  at  home, 
because  he  had  never  used  it ;  the  other  carried  his  about 
with  him,  but  when  he  was  about  to  whistle  it  had,  as  he  him- 
self said,  lost  its  breath. 

The  door  was  now  broken  in,  but  still  no  one  showed  him- 
«if.  Suddenly  a  window  sprang  open :  a  cat,  wild  and 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  t  1 5 

screaming,  made  itself  a  passage,  rushed  up  a  tree,  and 
vanished  on  the  nearest  roof. 

Three  persons,  it  was  well  known,  were  in  the  burning 
house  :  the  old  Jew  and  his  granddaughter,  the  little  Naomi 
(who  composed  the  family),  and  old  Joel,  the  peddler  Jew,  as 
he  was  called,  who  formed  the  corps  of  domestics.  It  is  true 
that  there  was  a  female  who  belonged  to  the  house,  Simonia, 
who  assisted  Joel,  but  she  did  not  pass  the  night  there. 

"  Break  in  the  window  in  the  roof ! "  shouted  several  voices, 
and  the  ladder  was  directed  toward  it.  The  smoke  rushed 
thick  and  black  through  the  window,  the  tiles  already  sprang 
with  the  heat,  and  the  flames  burst  more  boldly  through  the 
burning  laths  and  rafters. 

"  Joel !  "  cried  all,  as  he  rushed  out  from  the  door,  with  an 
old  dressing-gown  thrown  over  his  dry,  yellow  limbs.  His 
Jong  fingers  grasped  a  silver  cup,  and  beneath  his  arm  was  a 
box  of  papers.  This  was  all  which,  as  though  instinctively, 
he  had  saved  upon  his  flight. 

"  The  grandfather  and  the  child !  "  stammered  he,  as,  over- 
powered  by  terror  and  heat,  he  leaned  against  the  wall  and 
pointed  with  his  hand  toward  the  room  on  the  ground-floor. 
At  this  very  moment  the  window  there  opened,  and  the  old 
Jew,  half  naked,  and  with  little  Naomi  in  his  arms,  descended. 
The  child  clung  fast  to  him  ;  several  persons  near  sprang  to- 
ward them,  and  held  the  ladder. 

The  old  man  already  stood  with  one  foot  on  the  ladder ; 
he  stooped  over  it  with  the  child,  when  he  suddenly  hesitated, 
heaved  a  strange  and  dismal  sigh,  stepped  back  again,  and 
vanished  in  the  room.  Black  smoke  and  flames  enveloped 
the  window  for  a  moment. 

"  Lord  Jesus  !  "  exclaimed  the  people  below,  "  where  will 
he  go  to  ?  He  will  be  burnt  with  the  child  !  It  is  the  money 
which  he  has  forgotten !  " 

"  Make  way ! "  cried  a  powerful  voice ;  and  a  man  with 
dark  and  expressive  features  pressed  through  the  crowd, 
sprang  up  the  ladder,  and  with  a  firm  hand  seized  hold  of  the 
window-frame,  the  upper  portion  of  which  was  already  wreathed 
«rith  flame.  The  fire  illuminated  the  room,  the  light  quivered 
on  the  tottering  floor  :  the  man  climbed  up  and  entered. 


1 6  ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I 

"  Was  not  that  the  Norwegian  out  of  the  Hollow  Lane  ? 
asked  several  voices. 

"  Yes,  it  was  he  !     He  is  a  daring  fellow  !  " 

The  fire  lit  up  every  corner  of  the  room  in  which  he  stood, 
Naomi  lay  on  the  ground  ;  the  old  grandfather  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen  ;  but  a  thick,  stifling  smoke  burst  forth  from  a 
neighboring  room  through  the  open  door.  The  man  seized 
the  child,  and  sprang  out  upon  the  tottering  ladder.  Naomi 
was  saved,  but  the  grandfather  lay  already  stunned  in  the 
chamber  whither  he  had  penetrated  to  the  well-filled  money- 
chests.  The  roof,  cracking,  fell  together ;  a  column  of  sparks, 
innumerable  as  the  stars  in  the  milky  way,  rose  high  into  the 
air. 

"  Jesus,  have  mercy !  "  was  the  short  miserere  for  a  soul 
which  in  this  moment  through  the  flames  passed  over  to  the 
life  of  death. 

It  was  impossible  to  save  any  of  the  property,  for  every- 
thing stood  in  flames.  Simonia  stretched  forth  her  arms, 
sobbing,  and  full  of  despair,  toward  the  burning  house,  where 
her  master  had  died  the  death  of  fire,  and  where  but  yester- 
day she  had  found  a  friendly  shelter.  Marie  had  taken  in 
Joel,  and  thither  was  Naomi  also  taken. 

"  The  stork !  the  poor  stork !  "  suddenly  cried  all  the  specta- 
tors. The  approaching  flames  shone  upon  the  nest,  on  which 
stood  the  mother-stork,  and  extended  her  large  wings  over  her 
young  ones  to  protect  them  from  the  increasing  heat.  The 
little  things  pressed  against  each  other,  and  were  too  much 
terrified  to  flutter  out  of  the  nest.  The  mother  beat  with  her 
wings,  and  stretched  her  neck  far  out.  "  My  stork  !  my  dear 
bird  !  "  cried  the  tailor  ;  "  the  poor  thing  must  not  be  killed ! " 

Immediately  he  placed  the  ladder  against  the  roof,  whilst 
others  endeavored,  by  shouts  and  the  flinging  of  stones,  to 
drive  the  stork  from  the  nest ;  but  the  bird  remained  standing 
there.  A  thick,  coal-black  body  of  smoke  drove,  at  this 
moment,  along  the  wall ;  so  that  the  tailor  was  obliged  to  hold 
back  his  head,  whilst  fire  and  smoke  flew  over  him.  The 
flames  seized  the  dry  sticks  of  which  the  nest  was  woven ;  it 
blazed  up,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  fire  stood  the  faithful  stork, 
and  was  burnt  to  death  together  with  its  young  ones. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  lj 

The  next  day  was  the  fire  extinguished.  The  Jew's  hand« 
some  house  was  now  only  a  smoking  heap  of  rubbish  and 
ashes,  among  which  were  found  the  remains  of  his  disfigured 
corpse. 

Toward  evening  the  tailor  and  his  little  son  stood  on  the 
place  of  the  burning.  The  smoke,  which  arose  here  and  there, 
was  a  sign  that  the  fire  was  still  burning  beneath  the  ashes. 
The  whole  of  the  beautiful  garden  was  now  a  trampled  wilder- 
ness ;  around  lay  black,  half-burnt  beams ;  the  vines  and  the 
lovely  convolvuli  were  torn  down  from  the  garden-wall,  and 
lay  flung  upon  the  ground  and  trodden  under  foot.  The 
beautiful  stocks  had  vanished,  the  rose-bushes  were  broken 
and  covered  with  earth,  one  side  of  the  acacia  was  singed, 
and,  instead  of  the  refreshing  breath  of  flowers,  you  now  only 
breathed  the  smoke  of  desolation.  That  sweet  little  garden- 
house  had  also  been  pulled  down.  A  little  piece  of  the  red 
window  was,  so  to  say,  all  that  Christian  discovered  of  his  old 
memories ;  he  looked  through  it,  and  the  heaven  glowed  again 
as  it  had  done  when  he  looked  through  the  red  window  with 
Naomi.  Upon  his  parents'  house  he  saw  a  stork  ;  it  was  the 
father-stork,  that  had  returned,  and  could  neither  find  his  nest 
nor  the  house  on  which  his  nest  had  stood. 

"  The  poor  bird !  "  said  the  tailor,  affected  ;  "  the  whole  day 
has  he  been  flying  above  the  spot.  Now  he  is  going  again. 
I  will  have  a  cross  set  up  there,  and  then  perhaps  he  will  build 
his  nest  there  again.  How  he  looks  about  for  the  mother  and 
the  young  ones  !  They  will  never  again  fly  together  to  the 
warm  countries." 

In  the  almost  empty  hovel  stood  old  Joel,  near  to  where  the 
hole  was  in  the  wall.  He  supported  himself  against  the  wall, 
whilst  his  dark,  moist  eye  was  riveted  upon  an  object  which, 
imperfectly  covered,  lay  on  an  empty  bedstead.  His  thin,  pale 
lips  moved  convulsively,  and  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice  he 
spoke  the  following  words  to  himself:  — 

"  A  box,  then,  shall  be  thy  coffin,  thou  rich  son  of  the  race 
of  Solomon  !  the  apron  of  a  poor  woman  thy  pall  !  Ah !  no 
daughters  of  Israel  will  wash  thy  body  ;  the  red  flames  have 
done  that.  The  fire  was  more  dry  than  the  herbs,  more  red 
than  the  roses  which  we  cast  into  the  bath  of  our  dead.  But 


1 8  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

thy  tombstone  shall  stand  at  Bet  achaim*  even  should  pool 
Joel  be  thy  only  follower.  Thou  shalt  enter  thy  consecrated 
grave,  where  the  black  underground  stream  will  carry  thee  to 
Jerusalem." 

He  removed  the  apron,  and  raised  the  lid  from  the  box  in 
which  lay  the  consumed  remains  of  his  master ;  his  lips  quivered 
convulsively,  tears  streamed  down  over  his  wrinkled  cheeks, 
but  his  words  were  hollow  and  not  to  be  understood. 

"  Lord  Jesus,  be  merciful  to  him !  "  exclaimed  Marie,  as  she 
entered ;  but  a  blush  overspread  her  countenance  when  she 
had  spoken  these  words :  she  feared  to  have  wounded  the 
mourner  by  pronouncing  the  holy  name  in  which  he  did  not 
believe.  "  God  may,"  repeated  she,  therefore,  quickly  and 
with  emphasis,  —  "God  will  be  merciful  to  him." 

"  His  tombstone  shall  stand  near  his  daughter's,"  said  Joel, 
and  again  covered  the  melancholy  remains. 

"  She  lies  buried  in  Frideritz,"  said  Marie  ;  "  you  must  be 
taken  a  long  distance  to  find  a  grave.  I  remember  very  well 
the  night  she  was  removed :  her  coffin  was  packed  in  straw, 
and  her  father,  who  now  lies  there  in  coal  and  ashes,  and  you, 
Joel,  were  with  it.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents  from  heaven. 
The  poor  child  is  the  only  one  remaining.  The  old  grand- 
father was  Naomi's  sole  support." 

"  Her  mother  was  of  our  people,"  pursued  Joel ;  and  then 
added,  in  a  somewhat  proud  tone,  "  Our  community  allows  no 
one  of  its  body  to  perish.  I,  old  man  as  I  am,  shall  receive 
my  bread,  and  I  will  divide  it  with  her,  if  she  find  not  a  place 
at  a  more  wealthy  table.  In  the  house  of  the  Christian  be- 
longs the  Christian  child,"  added  he,  but  in  so  low  a  tone  that 
Marie  could  not  hear. 

"  The  child  is  with  us,"  returned  Marie ;  "  for  God's  sake 
let  her  remain  here  until  something  better  offers :  where  the 
pot  cooks  for  three,  a  fourth  can  eat  his  meal." 

Late  on  the  following  evening,  when  it  was  become  dark 
and  quiet  in  the  streets,  there  moved  along  a  little  band 
through  the  town  toward  the  bridge  of  boats :  first  went  the 
tailor,  with  a  little  lantern  in  his  hand ;  Joel  followed  him,  his 

1  "Bet  achaim"  i.  e.  the  house  of  the  living;  the  name  given  by  the 
lews  tc  their  burial-grounds.  — Author's  Note. 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  I  1 9 

bundle  on  his  shoulder,  the  box  under  his  arm  ;  Marie,  with 
Christian  and  Naomi,  brought  up  the  rear.  The  little  girl 
wept  bitterly ;  Joel  kissed  her  hand  and  brow,  and  went  on 
board  the  yacht  which  was  lying  under  weigh.  But  few  words 
were  exchanged.  Silently  stood  the  rest  of  the  party  on  the 
bridge,  where  the  cables  were  loosened. 

And  by  the  light  of  the  rising  moon  did  Christian  see  how 
the  sails  unfolded  themselves,  and  the  vessel  glide  slowly  along 
over  the  mirror  of  the  sea,  for  all  outlines  showed  themselves 
distinctly  in  this  moon-twilight. 

Poets  tell  us  of  the  Gypsies  who  took  down  their  chief  from 
the  gallows,  placed  a  crown  upon  his  head,  and  clothed  him 
in  a  purple  robe,  thus  to  lay  him  in  the  stream  which  should 
bear  him  to  Egypt,  where  he  would  rest  in  the  pyramids.  A 
similar  thought  filled  the  boy's  soul ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
/oel  were  travelling  with  the  dead  into  a  distant  land  of  fancy, 
which,  perhaps,  was  not  far  from  the  Jewish  city,  Jerusalem. 

"  How  similar  to  the  Rhine  scenery  near  Mayence  ! "  ex- 
claimed the  tailor,  pointing  across  the  straits  to  the  island  of 
Thorseng. 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  exclaimed  Marie,  "  how  is  it  possible 
for  thee  to  think  of  such  things  now  ?  We  ought  to  be  in  a 
graver  mood,  even  though  it  be  a  Jew  whom  we  bury.  Poor 
people !  even  in  death  they  h'ave  no  rest ;  they  must  even 
travel  to  be  laid  beneath  the  earth  I  " 

She  looked  sorrowfully  after  the  vessel,  which  slowly  glided 
along  the  waves,  and  every  moment  removed  itself  from  the 
eyes  of  those  who  remained  behind. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  To-day,  my  dolly,  there's  no  time  foi  sorrow  ; 
But  O,  my  dolly,  to-morrow,  to-morrow  !  "  —  Lullaby. 

HOW  easily  and  soon  does  a  child  forget  its  sorrows  !  — 
perhaps  as  easily  and  soon  as  we  forget  this  earthly 
life  when  once  we  breathe  in  the  other  world. 

Naomi  had  wept  much  at  first  over  her  grandfather  ;  now  a 
childish  smile  took  the  place  of  her  early  tears.  The  great 
blooming  world  had  already  turned  on  its  axis,  and  that  influ- 
ences the  sorrow  of  a  child  more  than  weeks  and  months  are 
able  to  influence  us,  grown-up  people.  In  the  tailor's  little 
room  she  soon  made  herself  at  home  with  her  friendly  play- 
fellow. A  pretty  mourning  dress  had  been  sent  her,  and  she 
had  a  deal  of  delight  in  it. 

"  May  I  wear  it  every  day  ? "  asked  she ;  "  must  not  I 
take  care  of  it  ?  else  it  will  be  no  longer  new  when  I  go  into 
mourning  again."  She  did  not  inquire  less  after  her  pretty 
toys,  her  doll,  and  her  little  kitchen-ware,  than  after  her  grand- 
father. This  should  not  appear  singular  to  us :  she  spoke  as 
all  children  speak.  Quite  delighted  sat  she  on  the  high  door- 
sill,  with  a  large  cabbage-leaf  in  her  hand,  which  must  at  the 
same  time  be  to  her  fan,  arbor,  and  garden  !  The  whole  de- 
stroyed flower-garden,  with  all  its  odors,  was  supplied  to  her 
by  this  one  leaf! 

Ill-shapen,  carelessly  heaped-up  stones,  formed  the  steps  of 
the  street-door.  Naomi  sat  on  the  steps  ;  the  apertures  be- 
tween the  stones  she  called  her  mills,  the  sand  which  Chris- 
tian poured  into  them  was  the  corn  which  should  be  ground. 
They  were  forced  to  play  as  well  as  they  could,  for  Christian 
had  no  playthings  except  a  top,  which  must  constantly  spin 
round  before  Naomi ;  and  certainly  this  top  was  very  pretty : 
a  brass  nail  was  seen  in  it,  and  it  was  painted  with  red  and 
blue  <mgs. 


ONLY  A   FWDLER!  21 

"  That  is  a  dancing  flower,"  said  Naomi. 

"  No,"  cried  Christian,  "  let  it  be  our  enchanted  man  who 
must  serve  in  the  mill,  but  who  only  does  good  when  he  re- 
ceives many  stripes.  Listen,  how  he  grumbles!  —  see,  how 
he  springs ! " 

"  Now  he  shall  die  !  "  said  Naomi ;  "  then  we  will  bury  him, 
like  the  grandfather ;  and  then  we  will  play  at  mourning,  and 
holding  a  funeral  —  that  is  so  amusing  !  " 

And  Christian  acted  as  both  the  chorister  and  sexton.  The 
children  laid  the  top  in  a  hole,  and  scattered  grass  over  it. 
They  then  played  at  the  alarm  of  fire  ;  the  bells  were  rung,  and 
people  came  to  extinguish  it.  Some  neighbors'  children  joined 
them,  and  the  game  assumed  quite  another  character ;  they 
soon  came  to  an  understanding,  and  they  were  all  soon  friends 
and  old  acquaintance,  although  Naomi  had  never  before  seen 
these  strange  children.  But  the  child  has  the  same  feeling  to- 
ward the  companions  of  his  own  age  that  we  older  people 
have  when  we  see  flowers  with  which  we  are  acquainted :  we 
greet  them  all  as  old  friends,  although  each  flower  which  is 
thus  presented  to  us  we  see  for  the  first  time. 

The  game  which  the  children  next  fixed  upon  no  grown 
person  would  so  easily  have  guessed :  they  took  off  their  shoes, 
reared  them  up  along  the  wall,  and  then  walked  up  and  down 
before  them.  This  was  an  illumination  which  they  were  look- 
ing at 

It  was  then  the  custom  in  Svendborg,  at  weddings,  for  the 
guests  to  accompany,  by  torch  and  lantern-light,  the  bridal 
pair  from  the  bride's  to  the  bridegroom's  house  ;  therefore  the 
children  now  seized  upon  the  shoes,  which  were  to  represent 
lanterns,  to  conduct  the  bridal  pair,  Christian  and  Naomi. 
How  glorious  this  game  appeared  to  Naomi !  and  what  were 
dolls,  pictures,  and  flowers,  in  comparison  with  these  living 
playfellows?  Tenderly  she  leaned  toward  Christian,  who 
threw  his  arm  round  her  neck  and  kissed  her  lips.  She  gave 
him  the  locket  which  hung  upon  her  breast;  with  this  she 
would  adorn  him,  and  then  he  would  be  a  count ;  and  they 
kissed  each  other  again,  and  the  other  children  stood  round 
them  and  lighted  them  with  their  shoes. 

This  was  indeed  a  singular  picture  of  still  life.     The  little 


22  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

swallows  busily  adorned  the  nests  above  them  ;  the  bridal 
chambers  under  the  eaves,  and  the  clouds  in  the  blue  heavens, 
seemed  to  meet  and  melt  into  each  other  :  but  they  separated, 
the  lower  ones  moved  toward  the  east,  the  upper  ones  toward 
the  west,  even  as  the  laws  of  nature  governed  these  currents 
of  air. 

The  children's  game  was  suddenly  interrupted :  a  kind  of 
calash,  such  as  was  used  twenty  years  ago,  a  clumsy  machine 
of  wood,  painted  blue,  and  lined  on  the  inside  with  gray  woolen 
stuff,  rolled  past  them,  over  the  uneven  stone  pavement.  One 
may  still  see  such  vehicles  in  the  country  and  in  small  towns  ; 
well-to-do  clergymen  drive  about  in  them ;  but  the  vehicle 
itself,  the  coachman,  and  the  harness  refer  to  another  genera- 
tion :  they  seem  to  have  overlived  themselves.  The  horses 
were  in  good  condition,  and  had  toupets ;  the  coachman,  in  an 
antique  livery,  made  a  genteel  face,  which  clearly  betrayed  how 
well  aware  he  was  that  it  was  a  noble  family  whom  he  drove. 
The  carriage  drew  up  before  the  apothecary's  shop,  where  a 
vast  number  of  pill  boxes,  medicine  bottles,  and  ointment  boxes 
were  exchanged  for  others,  but  all  in  the  greatest  haste.  The 
carriage  now  drove  on,  but  soon  paused  again  before  the 
tailor's  door.  Beside  the  coachman  and  footman,  the  carriage 
contained  two  ladies  —  a  young  one  who  seemed  an  inferior 
(perhaps  a  lady's  maid),  and  an  elder  one,  a  tall  and  high-born 
lady  of  a  sickly  appearance;  she  was  well  wrapped  up  in 
shawl  and  cloak,  and  held  from  time  to  time  a  silver  smelling- 
bottle  to  her  nose. 

It  was  the  work  of  a  moment  for  Marie  to  stand  before  the 
carriage  and  courtesy,  then  kiss  respectfully  the  hand  of  the 
old  noble  lady,  and  assure  her  that  her  wishes  should  be  im- 
mediately fulfilled. 

The  windows  in  the  neighborhood  opened  forthwith  —  nay, 
even  several  dames  looked  out  from  their  doors,  not,  as  now, 
in  silk  and  gauze,  but  in  red  bodices,  and  their  hair  covered 
with  caps.  The  children,  who  had  ceased  playing,  stood 
looking  on ;  they  had  arranged  themselves  along  the  wall, 
and  stood  with  their  arms  flung  round  each  other.  Christian 
understood  of  all  this,  only  that  in  great  haste  an  apron  was 
wiapped  round  Naomi,  and  that  she  was  then  lifted  up  to  the 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  23 

strange  lady  in  the  carriage ;  and  in  all  this  it  seemed  as 
though  nothing  unexpected  were  taking  place.  Marie  cour- 
tesied,  and  the  tailor  stood  at  the  door  with  his  cap  in  his 
hand. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  ride,"  said  Naomi,  as  they  placed  her  in 
the  carriage  :  but  this  she  was  forced  to  do,  whether  she  wished 
it  or  no  ;  and  therefore  she  wept  aloud,  and  stretched  forth 
her  arms  toward  the  other  children,  whilst  the  carriage  rolled 
away.  Then  the  boy  burst  into  tears,  the  separation  was  so 
sudden  and  unexpected. 

"  Now  wilt  thou  be  silent  ? "  said  Marie  to  him  ;  "  or  else  I 
will  give  thee  something  to  cry  for !  " 

"  Where  shall  my  wife  go  to  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Far  away,  to  learn  what  the  world  is.  Thank  thy  God 
that  thou  art  neither  fatherless  nor  motherless  !  Yes,  some 
time  thou  wilt  know  what  that  is.  How  would  it  be  with  thee, 
if  thou  must  travel  away  with  strange  people  ?  " 

She  sank  into  a  strange,  grave  fit  of  meditation,  whilst  she 
gazed  at  the  boy,  and  then  pressed  him  violently  to  her  bosom. 
"  Now  thou  mayest  go  and  visit  thy  godfather  in  Hollow  Lane," 
said  she ;  "  make  haste,  and  use  thy  legs ! " 

She  drew  the  boy  with  her  into  the  room. 


CHAPTER  V. 

44  L'archet  allait  toujours,  comme  le  balai  au  sorcier  qui  apporte  de  1'eai 
dans  notre  ballade  allemande.  Le  violon  et  1'archet  allaient  toujours,  tou- 
jours de  nouveaux  sons,  de  chants  inconnus."  —  Contes  fant<uti$ues,  far 
JULES  JANIN. 

THE  town  of  Svendborg  still  bears  the  stamp  of  a  little 
country  town  of  the  last  century  :  irregular  houses,  the 
upper  stories  of  which  protrude  beyond  the  lower  and  rest  upon 
isolated  props ;  gable-ends  which  deprive  the  neighbor  of  all 
view  at  the  side  ;  broad  flights  of  steps  leading  to  the  doorways, 
with  stone  or  wooden  benches  placed  on  either  side  the  door, 
are  still  everywhere  to  be  found  there.  Many  a  door  is  still 
adorned  with  its  Danish  or  Latin  inscription,  carved  in  wood. 
The  uneven  streets  are  like  a  paved  chain  of  hills,  over  which, 
in  a  broken  line,  the  way  leads  now  up,  now  down.  In  some 
places  one  fancies  one's  self  in  a  mountain  city,  especially  in 
the  Hollow  Lane,  which  nowadays  is  well  known  as  the  forum 
of  smugglers  and  low  adventurers.  When  one  looks  down 
from  the  elevated  High  Street  into  this  lane,  the  view  is  cer- 
tainly very  picturesque.  Huge  blocks  of  freestone  piled  one 
upon  the  other  form  the  ground-floor  of  the  nearest  houses, 
and  these,  owing  to  the  precipitate  declivity,  lie  in  a  direct 
line  with  the  second  stories  of  the  adjoining  houses.  In  this 
manner,  one  sees  from  the  High  Street  down  upon  the  roofs 
and  chimneys  of  the  little  neighboring  street,  and  overlooks 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  Svendborg  Sound,  the  whole 
wood-garlanded  coast  of  Funen,  together  with  portions  of  the 
islands  of  Langeland  and  Thuro. 

In  this  street  lived  Christian's  godfather.  The  boy  had  al- 
-eady  reached  the  corner  of  the  street,  and  looked  over  the 
houses  toward  the  three-masted  vessel,  which  even  now  seemed 
to  be  sailing  over  the  chimneys. 

As  was  always  the  case,  the  street-door  of  the  godfather's 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  25 

house  was  locked,  but  in  the  room  resounded  the  tones  of  a 
fiddle.  Every  one  who  has  a  feeling  for  music  would  have 
been  astounded  at  the  sounds.  It  was  that  melancholy  la- 
ment which  gave  rise  to  the  legend  about  Paganini's  violin, 
that  the  virtuoso  had  killed  his  mother,  and  that  it  was  her 
soul  which  spoke  out  of  the  strings. 

Soon  the  tones  passed  over  into  melancholy.  Ole  Bull,  the 
Amphion  of  the  North,  called  the  same  thema  the  lament  of  a 
mother  over  the  death  of  her  child.  Certainly  not  so  per- 
fectly as  these  two  masters  in  the  art  of  Jubal,  yet  in  the  man- 
ner of  both  did  the  godfather  play  ;  in  the  same  manner  that 
the  green  branch  in  all  its  minute  parts  resembles  the  tree  to 
which  it  belongs. 

Like  Ole  Bull,  he  was  a  Norwegian,  and  we  have  already 
heard  him  called  so  at  the  conflagration,  when  he  rescued  Na- 
omi. His  cradle  had  stood  among  the  rocks  and  ice-moun- 
tains. He  often  told  Christian  about  his  home,  and  of  the 
Neck  who  lives  in  the  mountain  torrents,  and  who  sits  in  the 
moonlight  on  the  waterfalls  with  his  long  white  beard,  and 
plays  so  enchantingly  that  one  is  tempted  to  precipitate  one's 
self  down  to  him.  The  poor  son  of  Oceanus !  when  he 
played  his  very  best  the  boys  would  only  jeer  him,  and  cry, 
"  Thou  canst  not  be  saved !  "  and  then  would  the  river-god 
weep  clear  tears,  and  vanish  in  the  stream. 

"  The  Neck  has,  no  doubt,  taught  thy  godfather  how  to 
play,"  had  a  neighbor  once  said  to  Christian  ;  and,  from  that 
time  forth  the  boy,  each  time  he  heard  his  godfather's  violin, 
must  think  of  the  Neck  in  the  roaring  waterfall,  and  then  he 
became  quiet  and  thoughtful. 

Therefore  to-day  he  seated  himself  on  the  door-sill,  leaned 
his  head  against  one  of  the  door-posts,  and  listened  to  the  ex- 
traordinary tones :  not  until  the  fiddle  ceased  did  he  knock. 

The  man,  whom  we  already  know,  and  who  had  scarcely 
passed  his  best  years,  opened  the  door.  His  brown  counte- 
nance and  his  raven-black  hair  seemed  to  announce  an  inhab- 
"tant  of  the  South,  or  Jewish  extraction  ;  which,  however,  the 
bright  blue  eyes  strangely  enough  contradicted,  so  entirely  in- 
dicating a  dweller  of  the  North,  and  so  strangely  contrasting 
with  his  bushy,  black  eyebrows.  For  a  moment  one  could 


26  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

have  imagined  that  the  countenance  and  hair  oelonged  to  a 
mask,  and  that  only  a  very  fair  person  could  have  such  clear 
eyes. 

"  Is  it  thou,  Christian  ? "  asked  he,  casting  a  squinting 
glance  at  the  boy. 

With  feelings  which  were  a  mixture  of  fear  and  reverence 
did  the  boy  regard  him,  for  the  presence  of  this  man  inspired 
something  of  that  sentiment  which  is  ascribed  to  the  playing 
of  the  Neck  and  the  glance  of  the  serpent.  If  he  were  at 
home,  he  unceasingly  yearned  after  his  godfather,  and  it  was 
his  greatest  wish  to  go  to  him ;  and  yet,  when  he  was  once 
there,  that  strange  feeling  fell  upon  him  which  overpowers  us 
when  either  we  step  alone  in  a  fearful  vault  or  find  ourselves 
in  a  dark  wood  where  we  have  missed  our  way.  Each  time 
that  he  visited  his  godfather  he  received  two  small  pieces  of 
money  as  a  present ;  yet  it  was  not  this  money  that  attracted 
him  thither,  but  his  godfather's  tales  about  the  immense  pine- 
forests  and  glaciers  of  Norway,  about  the  magicians  and  spirits  \ 
but,  above  all,  it  was  the  music,  for  his  godfather's  fiddle  in 
its  way  related  equally  as  wonderful  things  as  his  mouth. 

When  Christian  had  entered,  the  door  was  closed  again. 
Upon  the  walls  of  the  little  room  hung  several  pictures  which 
had  a  peculiar  interest  for  him :  there  were  representations  of 
the  "  Dance  of  Death,"  in  colored  prints,  after  the  paintings  in 
the  Church  of  Maria  at  Lubeck ;  all  must  here  take  part  in 
the  dance,  from  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor  to  the  child  in  the 
cradle,  which  exclaims  in  astonishment,  — 

"  O  Death,  this  art  how  can  I  know  ? 
That  I  must  dance,  yet  cannot  go  !  " 

Christian  looked  at  the  figures  in  the  pictures,  and  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  they  all  turned  their  backs  to  him ;  he  in- 
quired what  this  could  mean. 

"They  have  moved  in  dancing,"  answered  the  godfather, 
and  arranged  the  figures.  "  Hast  thou  stood  long  outside  the 
door  ? "  he  then  asked. 

"  No,  not  long ;  thou  wast  playing  on  the  fiddle,  and  I  lis- 
tened. If  I  had  been  here  should  I  have  seen  how  Death 
danced,  and  how  the  puppets  moved  ?  for  it  is  all  true  which 
thou  hast  told  me  of  them,  is  it  not?' 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  2* 

"  They  shall  be  thine,"  replied  the  godfather,  and  took  down 
the  pictures  from  the  wall.  "  Tell  thy  father  that  I  have  given 
them  to  thee  ;  the  glass  and  frames,  however,  I  shall  keep  my- 
self. They  are  pretty  figures,  are  they  not  ?  Thou  canst  like 
them  ?  Am  I  not  good  ?  Speak  !  " 

The  little  fellow  replied  in  the  affirmative,  at  the  same  time 
terrified  at  his  godfather's  sharp  looks. 

"  Why  hast  thou  not  brought  thy  little  playfellow  with  thee  ? 
She  is  called  Naomi,  is  she  not  ?  You  might  both  of  you  have 
come." 

"  She  is  gone,"  replied  Christian  ;  "  she  was  driven  away  by 
the  grand  coachman."  And  then  he  related  as  well  as  he 
could  all  he  knew  of  Naomi's  sudden  departure. 

The  godfather  listened  with  a  certain  excitement,  and  then 
smiled.  The  fiddle-bow  again  danced  away  over  the  strings, 
and  if  they  sang  what  passed  through  the  godfather's  mind 
whilst  he  smiled,  his  must  have  certainly  been  feverish  and 
bad  thoughts. 

"Thou  must  also  learn  to  play  the  fiddle,"  he  suddenly 
broke  forth;  "that  may  make  thy  fortune:  thou  canst  win 
money  by  playing,  and  drive  away  thy  sorrows  when  thou  hast 
any.  Here,  thou  shalt  have  my  old  fiddle,  for  the  best  I  can- 
not give  thee  yet.  In  this  manner  place  thy  fingers ; "  and, 
saying  these  words,  he  laid  the  violin  on  the  little  fellow's  arm, 
and  guided  himself  the  bow  in  Christian's  hand. 

The  tones  rejoiced  the  little  fellow ;  he  had  made  them  him- 
self! His  ear  caught  up  each  one,  and  his  little  fingers 
passed  easily  over  the  strings. 

Nearly  a  whole  hour  did  the  first  lesson  last.  The  god- 
father then  took  the  instrument  himself  and  played  ;  that  was 
fiddling !  He  trifled  with  the  tones  as  a  juggler  who  plays 
with  his  golden  apples  and  sharp  knives. 

"  Ah,  only  play  how  Death  dances  !  "  besought  the  boy,  and 
the  godfather  drew  forth  some  sharp  tones  so  that  the  bass- 
strings  still  vibrated,  whilst  the  quinte  hissed  in  soft  tones. 

"  Dost  thou  hear  the  Emperor  ?  He  appears  amidst  the 
sound  of  trumpets  ;  but  now  comes  Death,  he  drives  along  like 
a  whistling  wind  !  Dost  thou  hear  the  Pope  ?  He  sings 
psalms  ;  but  Death  shakes  his  scythe !  Beautiful  maidens 


28  ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I 

float  along  in  a  giddy  dance  ;  but  Death  —  yes,  thou  dost 
hear  him  ?  —  he  sings  like  a  mourning  cricket !  "  And  the 
godfather  closed  his  eyes  ;  upon  his  brow  stood  large  drops  of 
sweat. 

He  then  laid  aside  the  violin,  and  opened  the  door  of  the 
garden  which  led  down  to  the  sea,  where  swam  the  wood-gar- 
landed island  in  the  quiet  ocean.  It  was  now  the  hour  of  sun- 
set. 

The  whole  garden  consisted  of  one  single  cabbage  planta- 
tion. Christian  observed  the  plants  attentively ;  they  were 
just  forming  heads. 

"  The  executioner  would  like  them,"  said  he. 
"  What  art  thou  saying,  boy  ?  "  asked  the  godfather  in  a  se- 
vere tone. 

"  I  mean  that  the  executioner  would,  no  doubt,  like  to  have 
these  cabbages,"  pursued  Christian ;  "  for  last  year  mother 
told  me  so,  when  we  passed  by  his  garden.  She  said,  if  I 
went  apprentice  to  him,  I  must,  every  time  cabbage  wa.s 
wanted,  exercise  myself  in  striking  off  the  cabbage-heads  with 
an  axe,  and  hit  just  where  my  master  had  made  a  mark  on  the 
stem." 

"  Silence  !  "  cried  the  godfather  in  unusual  excitement,  and 
pushed  the  boy  so  violently  that  he  tumbled  among  the  cab- 
bages. By  this  means  the  locket  came  to  view  which  little 
Naomi  had  given  him. 

"  What  hast  thou  there  ?  "  asked  the  Norwegian,  assisting 
the  boy  to  rise,  and  looking  at  the  locket.  He  cast  a  glance 
at  the  lock  of  hair  it  contained,  and  distorted  his  countenance 
to  that  smile  which  the  head  of  a  dissected  corpse  is  capable 
of  displaying  when  the  galvanic  bar  touches  its  tongue.  Sud- 
denly he  turned  back  to  the  house,  but  soon  again  returned 
with  the  rolled-up  pictures,  and  the  two  pieces  of  money 
wrapped  in  paper.  He  then  opened  the  garden-door  which 
led  to  the  Hollow  Lane,  and  the  visit  was  at  an  end  for  to-day. 
But  Christian  heard  not  how  the  godfather's  fiddle  sounded 
in  the  gayest  measures.  It  was  the  merriment  of  a  slave-ship. 
where  the  poor  slave,  in  order  that  he  may  enjoy  exercise,  is 
dr'ven  on  with  the  whip. 

The  following  day  the  Norwegian  paid  a  visit  to  Christian*! 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  29 

father.  He  brought  cabbage-leaves  and  fresh  grass  for  the  ca- 
nary-bird, and  changed  the  cage  of  the  natural  musician  into 
a  green  tabernacle.  The  little  bird  commenced  a  song  of  ju- 
bilee, and  the  Norwegian  godfather  listened  with  an  attentive 
air  to  these  bold,  exulting  tones,  as  though  he  would  learn 
them  from  the  bird  and  breathe  them  into  his  violin.  The 
tailor  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  godfather's  playing,  for  it 
awoke  his  recollections  of  distant  lands.  But  Marie  found 
something  ghostly  in  his  music,  and  we  might  almost  grant 
that  she  was  right. 

In  Paris  there  is  a  kind  of  engraving  with  the  inscription 
Diabolique,  in  which  is  contained  every  diabolical  conception 
which  human  fancy  has  been  able  to  conceive.  One  of  these 
represents  a  place  of  execution.  A  stake,  on  which  the  crim- 
inal is  to  be  bound,  stands  up  alone  j  high  on  this  sits  the 
devil  with  folded  arms,  and  with  his  legs  stretched  out  at  right 
angles  from  the  stake,  so  that  stake  and  devil  form  together  a 
Golgotha  cross.  A  young  woman  kneels  before  this  supposed 
holy  sign,  whilst  everywhere  appear  jeering  demon  faces.  At 
the  first  glance,  one  imagines  she  is  praying  before  the  cross  : 
but  one  soon  perceives  that  it  is  the  devil  before  whom  she 
kneels.  A  similar  picture,  but  in  tones,  did  the  playing  of 
the  Norwegian  present  you  with. 

The  instruction  which  he  again  this  day  imparted  to  the 
boy  was  to  be  regularly  pursued  several  hours  every  week  ; 
for  the  boy  used  his  fingers  well,  he  possessed  capacity  and 
feeling  for  music. 

"  This  may,  perhaps,  some  time  gain  him  bread,"  said 
Marie. 

"  It  may  give  him  an  opportunity  of  looking  about  him  in 
the  world,"  added  his  father. 

"  So,  then,  thou  thinkest  he  shall  be  a  vagabond  !  "  re- 
marked the  mother.  "  Thou  hadst  much  better  have  appren- 
ticed him  to  the  rope-dancer  who  passed  through  here  the 
other  day ;  he  could  then  have  travelled  well  about  the 
world." 

"  Thou  sayest  something  that  is  worth  hearing !  "  remarked 
the  tailor.  "  Perhaps  he  might  have  made  his  fortune  there. 
Shouldst  thou  not  like  to  be  as  light  as  a  bird,  Christian  ?  to 


£O  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

fly  along  the  thin  rope,  whilst  people  are  applauding  thee  ? 
And  then  thou  couldst  travel  from  country  to  country,  and 
couidst  see  a  deal !  " 

"  Yes,  truly !  and  heavy  blows  he  would  get,"  answered 
Marie  for  the  boy.  "Oil  upon  his  bread  —  that  disgusting 
oil !  by  means  of  which  those  people  become  flexible.  No, 
no,  we  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  !  Let  him  only  play 
the  fiddle  ;  he  is  no  juggler  on  that  account." 

"  He  shall  play  himself  into  the  girls'  hearts,"  cried  the 
godfather.  "  I  can  see  it  in  him  that  he  will  be  a  wild 
bird !  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Marie,  "  let  him  become  that  if  he  will, 
but  no  liar  or  thief !  Besides,  his  beauty  will  never  make  him 
very  lucky  with  the  girls.  Heaven  knows  from  whom  the  lad 
has  got  that  strange  face  !  " 

Most  parents  consider  their  children  handsome,  but  Marie 
belonged,  in  this  respect,  to  the  rare  exceptions ;  for  she 
could  see  that  her  son  was  not  handsome.  Yet,  neither  could 
any  one  call  him  ugly.  If  you  step  into  the  Church  of  St. 
Nicholas,  in  Svendborg,  you  see,  in  the  principal  aisle,  a  large 
painting  hanging  against  the  wall ;  the  pastor  Mousing  pre- 
sented it  to  the  church  when  his  wife  died.  In  it  stand  the 
pastor  and  his  wife,  with  their  two  daughters  and  seven  sons, 
represented  the  size  of  life.  Before  them  lie  three  little  chil- 
dren, in  swaddling-clothes,  as  dead.  The  number  of  these 
children,  therefore,  is  twelve  ;  and  all,  with  the  exception  of 
one,  who  seems  to  be  the  youngest,  are  handsome.  This 
child  the  painter  has  represented  with  a  rose  in  his  hand,  as 
though  he  would  give  him  something  beautiful.  Our  Chris- 
tian resembled  this  portrait ;  the  likeness  was  so  strong  that 
the  parents  themselves  were  struck  by  it ;  and  the  godfather's 
words  had  reference  to  it  when  he  said,  "  The  fiddle  shall  be 
a  I  ase  in  his  hand,  as  in  the  picture  in  our  church." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Link.  —  Bim,  bim,  bim,  bim,  bim,  bim,  bim,  bim, 

Bim,  bim,  bim,  bim,  bim  bim,  bim  ! 
Hammer.  —  He  shall  remember  the  sound  of  bells. 

No :  a  Vaudeville  by  HEIBKKO. 

SOME  day,  when  I  sail  to  Thorseng,  I  will  take  Christian 
with  me,"  said  the  Norwegian  godfather  at  his  depart- 
ure. 

It  was  the  middle  of  August  when  this  festival  day  was  an- 
nounced to  little  Christian  with  the  words,  "  To-morrow  we 
will  travel !  "  The  weather  would  be  fine :  the  sun  had  set  in 
a  clear  sky,  and  no  clouds  showed  themselves  in  the  west. 

"  Is  it  long  till  to-morrow  ?  "  asked  the  little  fellow  when  he 
was  gone  to  bed. 

"  Only  shut  thy  eyes  and  go  to  sleep,  and  it  will  be  morning 
before  thou  art  aware,"  replied  the  mother.  But  in  the  night 
Christian  woke  up  again,  and  asked  how  long  it  would  be 
before  morning. 

"  Shall  I  get  up  and  close  thy  eyes  for  thee  ?  "  was  the 
answer  he  received,  and  he  dared  not  ask  another  question. 

At  day-break  he  was  at  length  permitted  to  rise.  The  clean 
hempen  shirt,  with  the  collar  of  fine  linen,  was  put  on ;  and 
then  his  Sunday  clothes  and  the  new  laced  boots  with  white 
seams. 

His  godfather  already  waited  for  him  at  the  door ;  and  now 
they  set  out  on  their  journey.  Not  toward  the  bridge  of  boats 
did  the  two  direct  their  steps,  for  this  was  not  the  week-day  on 
which  the  ferry  took  over  citizens  free ;  but  they  went  to  St. 
Jiirgenshof,  the  fishing- village.  A  thick  mist  had  fallen,  so 
that  the  meadows  gleamed  like  lakes  ;  the  birds  sang,  and  the 
godfather  imitated  their  notes.  There  was  no  time  for  gather- 
ing flowers,  but  a  long  spray  of  white  convolvulus  was  snatched 
from  the  wall  of  earth  and  wreathed  round  Christian's  hat,  it 
irhich  was  stuck  a  smal]  green  branch  as  a  feather. 


22  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

In  the  hollow  way,  where  still  an  old  cross  stood,  i  relic  of 
the  Catholic  times,  sat  a  group  of  merry  country  people,  who 
devoured  their  breakfast  and  passed  the  pitcher  of  ale  round 
from  hand  to  hand. 

"  In  his  hat  wears  my  sweetheart  a  feather ; 
In  Copenhagen  the  monarch  he  serves,  "  — 

sang  one  of  the  girls,  whilst  she  stretched  forth  her  hands 
toward  Christian  ;  but  the  godfather  flung  his  arm  round  her 
waist,  and  pressed  a  kiss  on  her  lips. 

Through  the  quiet  wood,  which  is  appropriated  to  the  minis- 
ter's use,  they  reached  the  old  church  and  the  convent-farm, 
which  rise  in  the  southern  point  of  Funen,  close  to  the  deep 
straits  of  Svendborg.  To  the  left,  beneath  the  heights,  lay  the 
fishing-village  with  its  red  chimneys ;  the  fishing-nets  being 
spread  out  on  the  willow-trees.  In  the  low  stone  basin  rocked 
a  boat ;  two  men  were  busied  in  it  scooping  out  the  rain-watei 
and  loosening  the  sail  of  the  light  vessel.  They  evidently  ex- 
pected the  arriving  party. 

"  Will  you  take  that  lad  with  you  ? "  asked  one  of  the  men 
with  a  grave  mien. 

"  He  is  my  little  ass,  my  little  beast  of  burden,"  replied  the 
Norwegian,  smiling.  "  He  shall  see  Thorseng,  the  castle,  and 
the  tower  of  Breininge.  Art  thou  not  a  pious  little  ass  ? " 

He  then  seized  hold  of  one  of  the  oars  himself,  for  the  wind 
blew  so  faintly  that  they  were  obliged  to  assist  the  sail.  The 
boat  flew  over  the  clear  green  water,  leaving  behind,  on  the 
broad  expanse,  its  foamy  track.  Christian  sat  beside  the  rud- 
der, near  the  steersman.  The  jelly-like  sea-anemones  lay,  like 
transparent  flowers  on  the  watery  mirror,  betraying  life  by 
their  gentle  movement  on  tue  calm  water.  The  green  sand- 
bottom  which  he  had  first  seen  gradually  disappeared,  and  the 
little  boy  only  saw  the  boat  and  his  own  form  in  the  watery 
mirror,  which  returned  his  greetings  in  a  friendly  manner. 
They  now  cut  across  the  current,  and  glided  then  into  the 
shadow  which  the  coast  of  Thorseng  threw  upon  the  water 
The  godfather  lifted  his  hat  a  little  —  he  appeared  to  do  s<7 
quite  accidentally,  yet  was  this  an  old  custom  of  his  country , 
a  greeting  given  to  the  Neck,  whose  power  is  strongest  so  fai 
«<»  the  shadow  of  the  rock  extends. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  33 

Now  were  the  oars  laid  aside,  and  they  set  foot  on  the  lovely 
island  of  Thorseng.  The  godfather  and  the  fishers  spoke 
secretly  among  themselves,  but  Christian  did  not  hear  what 
they  said.  The  new  prospect,  the  rich  luxuriance  of  growth 
which  surrounded  him,  overpowered  his  curiosity. 

They  ascended  ever  higher  between  houses  and  gardens. 
Richly  laden  fruit-trees  stood  on  either  side  the  way  ;  huge 
props  supported  the  boughs  bending  beneath  the  weight  of 
their  rich  blessing.  Wild  hops  wound  themselves  over  the 
hedges ;  and  far  below,  at  the  declivity  of  a  hill,  lay  a  peas- 
ant's cottage,  around  which  the  hop-poles  were  so  placed  that 
they  partly  rested  on  the  roof;  and  the  hops,  like  the  richest 
vine-foliage,  twined  their  many-leaved  sprays  and  seemed  to 
form  tabernacles.  Before  every  house  was  a  flower-garden. 
The  hollyhocks  sent  forth  flower  after  flower  of  red  and  yellov, 
and  almost  reached  half-way  up  the  houses.  Here,  where  every- 
thing lay  protected,  the  heat  was  still  more  powerful.  A  stran- 
ger, suddenly  transported  to  this  region,  would  have  fancied 
himself  in  some  more  southern  country.  The  Svendborg  Sound 
would  have  reminded  him  of  the  Danube.  Yes,  truly,  here  it 
was  summer  !  glorious  summer  !  The  wild  mint  sent  forth  its 
odor  from  ditches,  which  were  shaded  by  blood-red  barberries 
and  the  elder,  the  berries  of  which  were  already  forming. 

"  It  will  be  a  hot  day  for  us, "  said  the  godfather,  but  they 
immediately  consoled  themselves  with  the  hope  that  a  cart 
would  soon  come  and  take  them  up. 

Not  a  single  cloud  showed  itself  in  the  whole  sky.  A  bird 
of  prey  flew  up,  and  with  the  many  strokes  of  its  wings  directed 
its  course  toward  the  near  wood.  The  whole  heat  of  the  day 
seemed  to  rest  upon  the  back  of  this  bird.  The  godfather  was 
•musually  gay ;  he  made  Christian  a  trumpet  out  of  the  stem 
•>f  a  reed,  and  pushing  the  pith  out  of  an  elder  branch,  made 
him,  also,  an  excellent  whistle.  All  this  took  place  during  their 
wandering,  and  amidst  various  subjects  of  conversation. 

A  cart  now  rolled  past,  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  which 

resembled  the  smoke  of  a  cannon  which  has  just  been  fired, 

and  which  seemed  to  rest  in  the  air.     T'ie  cart  stopped  and  the 

travellers  were  willingly  taken  t:p.  and  Christian  even  received 

3 


*4  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

as  a  present  a  large  cabbage-leaf,  full  of  black  cherries,  from  the 
peasant,  who  apparently  knew  the  godfather  very  well. 

In  the  next  moment  a  company  joined  itself  to  them :  two 
troopers  overtook  them. 

Upon  a  peaceful  island  there  are  no  robbers,  and  yet  these 
new-comers  had  a  somewhat  suspicious  appearance.  Each 
had  a  pistol  in  his  breast-pocket,  and  a  loaded  piece  under  his 
arm.  They  commanded  the  peasant  to  stop,  at  the  same  time 
casting  searching  glances  around.  They  then  examined  the 
cart,  but  having  found  nothing  suspicious  they  made  a  light 
excuse,  and  rode  away  as  fast  as  they  had  come. 

Whilst  all  this  occurred  the  godfather  had  kept  himself  com- 
pletely passive,  but  the  peasant  muttered  scornfully.  "  This 
time  they  have  fished  nothing,"  said  he. 

That  must  be  a  bitter  life,"  added  the  godfather.  "  In  sum- 
mer it  may  be  all  very  well,  but  when  the  white  bees  swarm, 
and  the  wind  hisses  over  from  the  sea,  it  must  be  hard  enough 
to  wander  about  the  whole  night,  only  at  last  to  be  led  by  the 
nose  by  cleverer  fellows.  Take  care,  Andreas  Hansen  !  they 
have  got  you  in  view !  I  might  almost  get  into  bad  repute 
myself,"  added  he  smiling,  "  because  I  travel  with  you." 

Who  were  these  men,  and  what  did  they  search  for  ?  Long 
did  the  whole  affair  busy  little  Christian  ;  but  at  length  the  gay 
prospect  which  the  day  presented  drove  away  all  recollections 
of  it.  He  saw  the  old  castle  of  Thorseng  again,  where  he  had 
already  been  once  with  his  parents.  It  was  the  largest  build- 
ing which  he  had  ever  seen,  for  it  was  even  larger  than  the 
jhurches  in  Svendborg.  He,  as  yet,  only  knew  the  exterior ; 
and  at  most  he  had  only  peeped  through  the  window.  It 
happened,  fortunately,  to-day,  that  travellers  were  there  to  see 
the  castle :  and  thus  he  ascended  the  high  flight  of  steps  with 
his  godfather,  and  wandered  through  the  long  corridors  and 
great  halls.  Many  portraits  of  old  times  —  portraits,  the 
originals  of  which  had  long  since  turned  to  dust,  gazed  down 
upon  him.  To  each  date  associated  itself  a  history  or  legend, 
which  lend  such  an  effectual  light  to  old  paintings  ;  a  meaning 
such  as  resembles  that  produced  when  we  behold  a  marble 
statue  by  torch-light.  The  portrait  of  a  blooming  woman,  who 
•miles  in  the  consciousness  of  beauty,  sinks  us  in  melancholy 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I  35 

when  we  reflect  that  centuries  have  fled  since  she  rejoiced  in 
life. 

Not  for  all  the  treasures  in  the  world  would  Christian  have 
slept  in  the  old  canopy-bed,  with  its  rustling  silk  hangings. 
No  doubt  in  the  night  the  figures  would  step  out  of  the  frames 
and  tapestry  ;  and  Niels  Juel,  the  admiral,  with  his  sword,  take 
his  place  in  the  gay  arm-chair  with  the  high  back.  Even  the 
long  mirrors,  in  which  you  could  see  yourself  from  head  to  foot, 
had  something  mysterious  for  Christian,  who  had  only  been 
accustomed  to  see  his  little  face  in  his  father's  shaving-glass. 

Therefore  he  breathed  more  freely  when  he  was  once  more 
in  the  open  air,  and  felt  far  happier  when  he  had  reached  the 
fishing-hut  on  the  shore,  where  the  wife  left  the  gooseberries 
to  his  free  disposal,  and  the  fisher-boys  showed  him  their  boat 
which  they  had  made  out  of  their  father's  wooden  shoe,  but 
which,  nevertheless,  was  adorned  with  masts  and  streamers, 
and  which  sailed  as  proudly  on  the  high  water  as  the  other 
well-manned  vessels.  A  large  glittering  insect  flew  by  chance 
past  the  little  vessel,  settled  on  the  sail,  and  beat  with  its  trans- 
parent wings.  That  was  a  living  passenger  whom  they  had 
on  board,  and  at  this  the  children  jumped  for  joy  and  clapped 
their  hands. 

Close  beneath  the  island  of  Thuro  lay  a  smack.  The  god- 
father rowed  thither,  put  to,  and  had  a  deal  to  say  to  the  peo- 
ple on  board.  Christian  did  not  accompany  him. 

The  sea  was  calm  ;  the  sun  shone  hotly. 

"  Thou  must  now,  for  once,  go  with  me  into  the  water,"  said 
the  godfather.  "  To-day  they  forgot  to  forbid  it  us,  thinking 
that  this  excursion  was  on  land  merely." 

Christian  smiled ;  he  would  right  willingly  swim  in  the  re- 
freshing waters,  for  at  home  he  was  only  allowed  to  take  off 
Vis  stockings  and  go  up  to  his  knees  in  the  water. 

"  This  is  another  kind  of  bath  to  that  which  thou  hast  at 
home,  when  thou  standest  in  thy  mother's  wash-tub,  and  hast 
A  stream  of  fresh  water  poured  over  thy  head.  Now,  pull  off 
thy  clothes,  my  little  lad  !  " 

Christian  obeyed.  The  Norwegian  himself  stood  there  like 
an  athlete.  He  raised  the  little  fellow  high  up  in  the  air, 
placed  him  on  his  shoulders,  and  made  him  bend  his  legs  back 


56  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

anderneath  his  arms.  It  was  the  image  of  St.  Christooher 
with  the  child  Jesus. 

A  mighty  splash  resounded  from  the  water,  which  closed 
above  them,  and  played  in  large  circles  where  they  had 
vanished.  In  the  next  moment  appeared  the  dark  countenance 
of  the  godfather  again  above  the  water,  his  bright  hair  hung 
over  his  brow  and  cheeks,  but  Christian  was  not  to  be  seen  ; 
he  had  slipped  away  during  the  plunge.  The  godfather  did 
not  miss  him  an  instant,  before  he  again  dived  below,  touched 
the  bottom,  seized  the  boy,  and  appeared  once  more  on  the 
watery  mirror.  Salt  wm-ir  streamed  out  of  the  little  fellow's 
mouth,  and  he  began  to  cry. 

"  For  shame  ! "  said  the  godfather,  appearing  as  though 
nothing  had  happened  out  of  the  usual  course ;  but  his  pulse 
beat  faster  than  usual.  It  was  well  that  this  adventure  passed 
off  in  this  way  ;  he  little  conjectured  that  a  far  greater  one 
awaited  them  that  evening. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  views  on  the  island  is  seen  from 
the  church-tower  at  Breininge.  Here  in  the  inn  one  finds,  as 
on  the  Brocken,  and  at  other  well  frequented  places,  a  book, 
in  which  the  traveller  writes  his  name,  accompanied  with  a 
sentimental  effusion  in  bad  verse,  or  a  piece  of  wit,  which 
only  amused  the  author. 

It  was  in  the  war  time,  and  a  telegraph  had  been  placed  on 
the  tower,  from  which  the  black  tablets  whispered  their  dead, 
yet  so  significant  language,  magically  through  the  air.  The 
sun  yet  stood  above  the  horizon  as  the  godfather  and  Chris- 
tian mounted  up  the  tower  to  visit  the  new  telegraph  inspector. 

The  straits,  the  islands,  and  the  Belt,  lay  stretched  out  be- 
fore them  like  a  map.  Beyond  Thuro  and  Langeland,  which 
shone  above  the  waters  like  flower-beds,  you  perceived  the 
toasts  of  Zealand.  Many  sails  glided  over  the  expanse  of 
ocean  ;  in  the  irregular  bay  lay  ships  at  anchor,  and  fishing- 
boats  moved  up  and  down.  But  these  black  tablets  attracted 
the  boy's  attention  more  than  the  natural  beauties.  He  knew 
that  they  could  speak  the  language  of  the  deaf  and  dumb ;  he 
had  himself  seen  them  sink  down,  rise  again,  and  assume  va- 
rious positions. 

The  godfather  sat  at  the  covered  table ;  but  Christian  wai 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  i  37 

deep  in  various  games  with  the  two  active  sons  of  the  tele 
graph  inspector.     They  left  the  room  to  play  at  hide-and-seek. 

Christian  crept  through  an  opening  in  the  wall,  by  which 
you  reached  the  two  large  bells.  A  great  beam  lay  between 
the  two  bells,  and  you  could  walk  over  this  to  the  sounding 
hole,  which  was  situated  in  a  recess  in  the  tower  wall.  The 
sun  cast  his  long  beams  through  the  aperture,  motes  revolved 
round  their  axle.  Through  the  sounding-hole  one  could  cer- 
tainly see  down  below  one  ;  that  was  another  amusement, 
whilst  the  children  sought  for  him.  Therefore  Christian 
danced  along  the  beam  between  the  bells,  and  could  now  over- 
look the  whole  island  and  the  sea  with  its  vessels.  He  soon 
heard  the  boys  in  search  of  him  ascend  the  steps,  and  saw 
how  they  thrust  their  heads  through  the  opening  by  which  he 
had  himself  entered. 

"  Art  thou  there  ? "  asked  one  of  the  boys.  "  Here  we  dare 
not  enter  ;  the  bells  might  strike  us  dead." 

Christian  returned  no  answer.  Should  he  let  himself  be 
frightened  ?  The  bells  hung  as  quiet  and  immovable  as  if 
they  were  walled  up  fast ;  besides,  they  could  not  reach  to 
where  he  stood.  The  boys  who  sought  for  him  retired. 

The  sun  now  set  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  and  appeared 
as  if  he  would  quickly  hasten  away.  Christian  could  distinctly 
see  how  he  sank  ever  lower,  and  at  length  quite  disappeared. 
The  evening  twilight  spread  itself,  and  he  looked  toward  the 
great  bell  which  hung  before  the  sounding-hole  niche.  Sud 
denly  it  trembled,  and  made  a  slight  movement.  He  now 
wished  to  go,  but  at  that  moment  the  bell  raised  itself  higher, 
and  turned  to  him  the  whole  opening  of  its  mouth.  Terrified 
he  shrunk  back,  and  pressed  against  the  wall.  The  first 
stroke  of  the  bell  sounded  in  Christian's  ears. 

It  was  here,  as  in  all  Danish  village  churches,  the  custom 
to  ring  at  sunset,  and  no  one  had  the  slighest  idea  that  a  hu- 
man being  was  in  the  belfry. 

Instinctively  he  felt  that,  did  he  take  a  step  nearer,  the 
Dell  would  crush  his  head.  Yet  louder,  and  even  louder,  re- 
sounded the  strokes  on  the  hollow  metal.  The  quivering  air 
and  hib  terror  powerfully  worked  upon  the  poor  boy  ;  cold 
sweat  started  from  all  his  pores ;  he  did  not  dare  to  turn 


38  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

round,  his  eyes  stared  into  the  hollow  bell  each  time  that  it 
swung  quivering  above  him.  He  called  loudly  for  help,  but 
no  one  could  hear  his  cry  of  anguish ;  he  felt  that  his  voice 
amidst  the  strokes  of  the  bells  echoed  unheard. 

Overpowered  to  his  very  inmost  soul  by  the  most  fearful  an- 
guish, the  bell  appeared  to  him  the  jaws  of  some  immense  ser- 
pent ;  the  clapper  was  the  poisonous  tongue  which  it  ex- 
tended toward  him.  Confused  imaginations  pressed  upon 
him ;  feelings  similar  to  the  anguish  which  he  felt  when  the 
godfather  had  dived  with  him  beneath  the  water  took  posses- 
sion of  him  ;  but  here  it  roared  far  stronger  in  his  ears,  and 
the  changing  colors  before  his  eyes  formed  themselves  into 
gray  figures.  The  old  pictures  in  the  castle  floated  before 
him,  but  with  threatening  mien  and  gestures,  and  ever-chang- 
ing forms  ;  now  long  and  angular,  again  jelly-like,  clear,  and 
trembling,  they  clashed  cymbals  and  beat  drums,  and  then 
suddenly  passed  away  into  that  fiery  glow  in  which  everything 
had  appeared  to  him  when,  with  Naomi,  he  looked  through 
the  window-panes.  It  burnt  —  that  he  felt  plainly.  He  swam 
through  a  burning  sea,  and  ever  did  the  serpent  exhibit  to 
him  its  fearful  jaws.  An  irresistible  desire  seized  him  to  take 
hold  on  the  clapper  with  both  hands,  when  suddenly  it  became 
calm  around  him,  but  it  still  raged  within  his  brain.  He  felt 
that  all  his  clothes  clung  to  him,  and  that  his  hands  seemed 
fastened  to  the  wall.  Before  him  hung  the  serpent's  head, 
dead  and  bowed ;  the  bell  was  silent.  He  closed  his  eyes 
and  felt  that  he  fell  asleep.  He  had  fainted. 

His  first  feeling  of  life  resembled  a  dream,  a  bad  dream. 
All  was  dark  around  him,  and  it  must  be  so,  for  he  lay  in  the 
serpent's  belly  :  the  serpent  had  then  swallowed  him  after  all ; 
it  was  alive  and  not  dead,  for  he  could  feel  how  it  moved  with 
him,  pressed  his  limbs  together,  raised  him  up  and  again  bent 
him  down.  That  was  a  severe  struggle. 

"  Put  the  church-door  key  into  his  mouth  !  "  he  heard  said, 
but  out  of  the  far  distance,  and  the  sound  vanished,  and 
together  with  it  his  horrible  dreams.  He  awoke,  and  felt 
himself  quite  weak. 

A  strange  woman  and  the  godfather  stood  beside  him ;  ht 
lay  upon  a  bed. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER'  39 

He  had  been  missed  and  found.  Strong  convulsive  fits 
had  been  his  sufferings,  of  which  he  knew  nothing  more.  He 
was  now  come  to  himself  again,  his  eyes  only  pained  him  still. 
He  recollected  clearly  everything  that  had  occurred. 

"  May  God  preserve  his  senses  !  "  sighed  the  woman. 

"  A  beating,  a  good  beating,  he  ought  to  have  !  "  said  the 
godfather,  "  for  he  has  deserved  it." 

"  Yes,  my  lads  have  had  their  share,  that  I  can  assure 
you,"  returned  the  woman,  "  although  they  are  not  to  blame 
for  the  misfortune." 

Christian  received  a  biscuit  with  honey,  to  strengthen  him 
and  revive  his  courage.  The  godfather  raised  him  on  his 
shoulders,  and  carried  him  down  to  the  shore,  for  he  must 
and  really  would  return  that  night.  The  lights  in  Svendborg 
glittered  clear  over  the  water ;  beneath  the  coast  lay  fishing 
boats,  with  their  bright  fire  for  the  eel-fishing :  every  breeze 
was  hushed  in  the  cool  summer's  night 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  Good-by  !  I  fly  now  far,  far  away, 
I  set  off  this  very  day."  —  TIECK. 

/'"COMMON  superstition  affirms  that  the  pollen  of  the 
\*^s  barberry  is  a  poison  for  grain  ;  the  heavy  ears  become 
spotted  by  the  biting  sap.  The  noble  poppy  of  the  most 
dazzling  white  changes  its  hue,  if  it  grow  among  colored  ones. 
Environment  is  the  invisible  hand  which  is  enabled  to  mould 
the  material  in  its  development. 

When  the  sculptor  commences  modeling  the  clay,  we  do 
not  yet  understand  the  work  of  art  which  he  will  create. 
Time  and  labor  are  necessary  before  the  plaster-cast  exists, 
and  the  chisel  after  the  model  animates  the  marble.  How 
much  more  difficult  is  it,  then,  to  discover  in  the  child  the 
worth  and  fate  of  the  man !  We  here  see  the  poor  boy  in 
Svendborg  ;  the  instinct  within  him,  and  the  influence  with- 
out, show,  like  the  magnetic  needle,  only  two  opposite  direc- 
tions. He  must  either  become  a  distinguished  artist  or  a 
miserable,  confused  being.  The  pollen  of  environment  al- 
ready begins  to  work  upon  him. 

The  god  of  music,  already  in  the  cradle,  gave  him  the 
consecrating  kiss.  But  whether  the  goddesses  of  the  times 
will  one  day  sing  him  inspiration  or  madness,  who  can  say  ? 
The  division  between  both  is  often  merely  a  thin  partition. 
Will  he  some  time,  perhaps,  excite  the  admiration  of  thou- 
sands, or  in  a  miserable  public-house,  the  violin  under  hie 
arm,  as  an  old  man,  act  the  fiddler  to  wild  and  rude  youths, 
who  mock  him  as  a  fool  —  he,  whose  soul  received  the  unseec 
consecration  of  Music  ? 

We  know  that  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt  came  lifeless  into 
the  world.  In  vain  were  all  means  tried  to  call  him  back  to 
life ;  then  thundered  the  hundred  cannon,  he  opened  his  eyes 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  41 

his  pulse  beat.  This  was  the  son  of  the  great  Emperor,  and 
on  this  account  thef  whole  world  learned  this  circumstance  of 
his  birth.  But  no  one  knew  that  the  son  of  poverty  entered 
life  under  similar  circumstances.  He  also  was  a  born  corpse, 
laid  on  a  bed  beneath  the  broken  window-pane,  when  sud- 
denly flutes  and  violins  resounded  from  the  street,  where  were 
playing  itinerant  musicians.  A  melancholy  girl's  voice  was 
heard,  and  the  little  one  opened  his  eyes  and  moved  the  al- 
ready cold  hand.  Was  it  their  tones  which  recalled  his  soul 
to  labor  here  upon  earth  ?  or  was  it  per  chance  this,  Solomon's 
sword  of  reasoning  men  ? 

A  rare  artist  must  he  become,  or  a  miserable  bungler  —  a 
sparrow-hawk  with  yellow  wings,  which  for  this  superiority  is 
pecked  to  death  by  its  companions.  And  if  he  should  be- 
come such  a  being  ?  What  comfort  would  it  afford  him,  what 
comfort  to  mankind,  full  of  proud  prejudice  ?  Like  the  snow- 
flake  which  falls  into  the  running  stream  is  he  buried  and 
forgotten,  and  only  the  works  and  names  of  a  few  elect  pass 
over  to  the  next  century.  Enviable  fate  !  But  future  joys 
may  await  him  in  the  new  state  of  existence,  whilst  the  happi- 
ness of  fame  lies  far  distant,  in  a  world  into  which  he  cannot 
enter,  in  which  he  can  take  no  part.  What  does  that  matter  ? 
Js  it  not  all  one  how  high  we  may  be  placed  in  life,  if  we  are 
only  firmly  placed  ?  So  sounds  the  consolation  of  the  world  ! 
This  is  the  wavering  self-consolation,  with  which  the  mighty 
wave  of  human  life  rolls  on  toward  the  coast  of  eternity  ! 

The  stem  of  the  fir-tree  forms  knots  which  betray  the  age 
of  the  tree  ;  human  life  has  also  its  perceptible  rings.  An 
important  point  of  change,  a  kind  of  decisive  moment  in 
Christian's  life,  was  this  summer,  through  his  acquaintance 
with  Naomi,  the  musical  instruction,  and  the  visit  to  Thor- 
seng. 

As  the  flower  turns  her  chalice  to  the  sur.,  so  did  his  soul 
yearn  after  sweet  tones.  The  organ  attracted  him  toward  the 
church  ;  the  simple  chanting  was  to  him  the  "  Miserere  "  of 
an  Allegri.  He  envied  the  prisoners  in  the  town-hall,  who, 
on  the  king  and  queen's  birthdays,  heard  music  over  their 
prisons  the  whole  night  through,  for  then  was  a  ball  given  in 
ihe  town-house.  Thus,  as  his  nerves  became  more  excitable 


42  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

did  his  ears  open  more  and  more  to  the  language  of  sweet 
tones.  The  convulsive  fits  which,  since  fhe  unfortunate  jour- 
ney to  Thorseng,  had  never  left  him,  often  returned,  and  left 
behind  a  strange  vibration  in  the  eyelids,  and  a  pricking  pain 
in  the  eyes  themselves,  whilst  at  the  same  time  all  objects 
showed  themselves  in  endless  changing  colors.  His  body 
languished,  and  his  soul's  life  was  a  mingling  of  fancies  and 
of  dreams.  On  such  a  mind  his  father's  constant  yearning 
after  travel,  and  his  godfather's  eccentricities,  produced  the 
same  effect  as  air  and  water  upon  the  child  born  and  brought 
up  in  the  valley  of  the  Cretins.  School-life  would  have  alone 
been  able  by  its  severe,  rational  discipline,  to  breathe  a  cool 
air  into  this  sirocco  of  the  imagination,  which  weakened  his 
mind  and  body;  but  at  this  time  there  was  no  regulated 
school  for  poor  children  in  the  whole  town.  An  honest  old 
man,  Mr.  Sevel,  and  his  deaf  wife,  were  the  only  people  who 
devoted  themselves  to  teaching  ;  and  to  this  end  had  taken 
up  their  abode  in  the  old  convent,  which  now,  together  with 
the  ruins  of  the  church,  is  pulled  down. 

The  monks,  both  in  the  north  and  south,  knew  how  to 
build  their  cloisters  in  the  most  beautiful  neighborhoods. 
Close  to  the  shore  of  the  strait  of  Svendborg  lay  the  convent 
of  the  Gray  Brothers,  with  its  beautiful  prospect  toward  Thor- 
seng and  Thuro  ;  the  vaulted  hall,  which  might,  perhaps,  once 
have  served  as  a  dining-hall,  was  now  converted  into  the 
school-room  ;  in  the  little  niche  where  once  stood  the  crucifix 
had  the  rod  and  knitted  stocking  now  taken  their  place.  Be- 
neath the  vaulted  roof,  on  benches  and  foot-stools,  sat  the 
younger  generation,  with  Dr.  Martin  Luther's  little  catechism 
in  their  hands ;  in  which  the  picture  of  the  Chinese  with  the 
long  pipe,  and  of  the  Virgin  Mary  with  the  Child,  were  cer- 
tainly not  very  Lutheran,  but  nevertheless  excited  the  most  in- 
terest. The  few  narrow  windows  were  placed  tolerably  high  : 
therefore  it  was  no  wonder  that  the  children  sprang  upon 
benches  and  table  to  look  out  toward  the  green  woods  and  the 
'arge  ships,  as  soon  as  ever  Mr.  Sevel  and  his  deaf  wife  left 
them  for  a  moment. 

Close  to  this  school-house  lay  the  desolate  old  church,  out 
of  whicl:  the  epitaphs  and  altar  had  vanished,  but  upon  the 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I  43 

walls  were  still  seen  half-obliterated  frescoes,  richly  surrounded 
with  monkish  inscriptions.  In  the  aisles  still  lay  the  tomb- 
stones ;  the  windows  were  broken  ;  but  grass  grew  long  in  the 
crevices  of  the  walls,  and  the  swallows  built  their  nests  where 
formerly  the  brazen  lamps  had  hung.  Still  stood  the  Jesus 
hominum  salvator  in  iron  letters  over  the  church  door,  which 
was  opened  upon  certain  occasions.  At  such  times,  did  the 
school  youth  chance  to  be  near,  they  would  stream  into  the 
church  and  raise  their  Vandal-like  cry,  which  through  the 
strong  echo  produced  a  peculiar  effect. 

Upon  Christian,  on  the  contrary,  the  church  produced  quite 
another  effect ;  he  became  there  quiet  and  introverted,  although 
no  place  was  dearer  to  him  than  this,  for  here  he  found  food 
for  his  dreams,  and  was  nearer  to  the  legendary  and  spiritual 
world.  He  could  gaze  so  long  at  the  faded  pictures,  until  at 
length  the  figures  seemed  to  move  their  eyes  ;  he  could  sit  so 
long  upon  the  grave-stones,  and  spell  out  the  inscriptions,  un- 
til at  length  he  heard  the  dead  knock  upon  the  tombstone,  and 
in  terror  he  ran  away.  When  the  grass  swayed  by  the  breeze 
quivered  against  the  broken  windows,  or  a  terrified  swallow 
flew  about  the  vaulted  roof,  he  thought  of  unseen  ghosts,  who 
played  with  the  long  grass,  or  chased  the  birds  out  of  their 
sleeping-rooms. 

His  body  became  sick  ;  the  convulsions  returned  oftener. 
Medical  advice  they  did  not  seek,  for  the  people  have  no  thor- 
ough faith  in  it  ;  and  then  it  costs  money !  Marie  also  thought 
that  one  might  be  made  ill  by  the  stuff  the  physicians  pre- 
scribed ;  she  knew  a  never-failing  remedy  for  all  internal  com- 
plaints —  a  few  drops  of  juniper  taken  in  brandy :  they  dis- 
persed the  complaint,  and  were  strengthening.  This  medicine 
was  administered  to  Christian. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  illness  was  no  better.  Therefore 
it  would  be  advisable,  said  Marie,  to  speak  with  the  wise 
woman  at  Quarndrup,  if  opportunity  offered.  This  arrived, 
and  all  kinds  of  sympathetic  remedies  were  tried.  Christian's 
wrms  and  legs  were  measured  with  worsted  threads,  and  he 
must  carry  on  his  heart  consecrated  earth  and  the  heart  of  a 
mole  :  this  was  an  infallible  remedy. 

Thus  passed  weeks  and  months  for  nearly  two  years.     Tho 


44  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

wise  woman  counseled  a  visit  to  the  Frorup  well.  Many  a 
sick  person,  whom  no  physician  had  been  able  to  cure,  had 
there  recovered  his  health.  Marie  placed  as  much  confidence 
in  the  healing  virtues  of  this  miraculous  well  as  she  did  in  the 
words  of  her  Bible.  The  superstition  still  exists  among  the 
people,  that  a  miraculous  sanative  power  is  possessed  by  sev- 
eral springs  in  Denmark.  The  country  people  of  Funen  con- 
consider  St.  Regissa's  spring,  which  rises  near  the  village  of 
Frorup,  as  the  most  efficacious  mineral  well,  and,  as  a  so-called 
well-fair  is  held  there,  people  stream  thither  in  great  crowds. 
From  a  circuit  of  many  miles,  nay,  even  from  beyond  Odense 
and  Svendborg,  the  sick  go  there  on  St.  John's  Eve,  partly  to 
drink  the  water  of  the  spring,  partly  to  bathe  themselves  in  it, 
and  to  spend  the  night  in  the  open  air.  Three  successive 
years  must  the  sick  person  visit  the  well ;  if  he  is  not  healed 
within  that  time,  nothing  in  the  world  can  cure  him,  say  the 
people. 

"Only  journey  to  the  well!"  had  said  the  oracle — "only 
journey  to  the  well,  and  you  will  perceive  a  change  !  " 

There  lay  in  these  words  an  unconscious  prophecy ;  for  there 
awaited  not  only  the  boy,  but  the  whole  family,  a  great  change 
owing  to  this  journey :  or,  at  least,  it  was  by  means  of  this 
journey  more  speedily  brought  about.  How  often  afterward 
did  Marie  say,  "  Yes  ;  had  not  we  then  travelled  to  the  well, 
perhaps  now  everything  would  have  been  quite  otherwise! 
Perhaps  ?  yet  we  have  had  our  free  will  to  act  with." 

Marie  considered  it  her  duty  to  visit  the  well  with  the  boy ; 
she  would  otherwise  have  much  to  account  for  to  God  did  she 
neglect  it.  Her  husband  had  no  such  strong  faith  in  this 
wonder-working  spring,  but  he  willingly  embraced  every  op- 
portunity of  getting  into  the  fresh  air,  and  therefore  made  no 
opposition.  His  friend,  the  sergeant,  had  just  come  to  the 
town  to  pay  a  visit  there,  for  the  regiment  in  which  he  served 
was  lying  in  Odense. 

The  spring  of  St.  Regissa  lay  several  miles  from  Svendborg  ; 
the  high-road,  however,  passed  it,  and  thus  the  mother  and 
boy  could  travel  in  some  carriage  returning  from  Svendborg 
to  the  fortress  of  Nyborg  on  the  Great  Belt.  The  two  friends 
however,  wandered  on  foot ;  they  would  not  be  bound  by  any 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  1  45 

thing,  in  order  that  they  might  choose  their  way  through  woods 
and  valleys.  A  painter  can  certainly  give  us  the  coloring  of  a 
beautiful  spring  day ;  yes,  he  can  make  us  feel  the  warm  air, 
but  he  is  unable  to  create  the  aromatic  beauty  which  operates 
equally  agreeably  on  our  well-being,  with  the  form  and  color 
of  objects.  The  host  of  little  birds  sang,  and  the  tailor  joined 
in,  singing,  as  in  foreign  countries  :  — 

"  Travel  on  foot  through  the  land, 
Then  a  kind  greeting  thou  wilt  understand. 
Travel  on  foot !  " 

Thus  he  jodelled  and  was  soon  again  deep  in  the  relation  of 
his  wandering  life  beyond  the  Danube  and  Po. 

"  Ah,  see  !  there  flies  a  stork !  Ah,  my  poor  stork  never  re- 
turned again !  Has  he,  perhaps,  died  from  sorrow  for  the  loss 
of  his  wife  and  young  ones  ?  or  is  he,  perhaps,  still  on  his 
travels  in  order  that  he  may  forget  them  ?  God  forgive  me  ! 
but  I  really  believe  one  may  forget  every  loss  on  a  journey." 

"That  I  also  believe,"  said  the  sergeant.  "Therefore  — 
yes,  I  have  never  been  able  rightly  to  express  my  opinion 
before  your  wife  ;  she  might  have  formed  a  bad  opinion  of  me 
—  you  should  take  the  thousand  dollars  ;  for  so  much  gives 
many  a  peasant's  son,  nowadays,  to  remain  at  home.  Some 
one  must  take  his  place.  With  that  money  Marie  and  the  boy 
might  live  free  from  care,  thou  wouldst  become  an  under-officer, 
and  wouldst  travel  again  abroad ;  and  this  is  that  for  which 
thou  alone  seemest  to  live.  These  are  unsettled  times ;  no 
soldier  knows  whither  he  may  go  ;  France  lies  as  near  to  us 
as  Germany." 

The  tailor  shook  his  head.  "  That  Marie  would  never  foi- 
give  me,"  said  he  ;  and,  somewhat  affected,  added,  "  I  believe, 
also,  that  without  her  I  could  not  live.  No,  no  !  do  not  let  us 
speak  more  of  this." 

Quickly  they  now  directed  their  steps  toward  the  estate  of 
Broholm.  The  leaves  of  the  wood  were  transparent,  the  violets 
grew  in  complete  clusters,  the  wood-flowers  bloomed  in  all 
tolors ;  and  between  the  trees  they  saw  far  over  the  Great  Belt, 
and  the  shores  of  the  Island  of  Langeland,  which  rose,  with 
its  forests  and  windmills,  high  above  the  sea. 

Do  we  read  Prince  Piickler-Muskau's  "  Briefe  eines  Verstor 


40  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

benen,"  the  lovely  country-seats  of  England  present  themselves 
before  our  eyes  ;  we  see  distinctly  the  avenue  of  large  old  trees 
which  leads  to  the  court.  Such  an  avenue  leads  to  the  house 
of  Broholm.  Wilhelm  Miiller's  songs  are  complete  little 
pictures  ;  the  mill-wheels  whirl  round  before  our  eyes,  and  the 
water  dashes  over  the  great  wheel.  Such  a  mill  is  close  by 
this  avenue  of  which  we  have  spoken,  but  so  deep,  that  "  the 
miller's  beautiful  wife  "  must  lean  back  her  sweet  little  head  to 
see  those  who  pass  on  the  road.  From  our  popular  Danish 
legends  float  in  our  memory  calm  lakes,  in  the  midst  of  which 
once  stood  an  island  with  its  castle ;  but  island  and  castle 
vanished,  and  now  the  swan  swims  over  the  towers.  Such  a 
lake  borders  the  avenue  and  the  mill,  and  the  island  lies  still 
in  it,  with  its  old  castle ;  the  large  round  tower,  with  its  copper 
pinnacles  and  high  spire,  reflects  itself  in  the  waters  of  the 
lake :  that  is  the  country  seat  of  Broholm.  Still  are  the  castle 
walls  provided  with  loop-holes,  and  there  still  flows  fresh, 
clean  water  in  the  castle-moat. 

In  the  vaulted  servants'-hall,  the  roof  of  which  rests  upon 
strong  pillars,  sat  our  two  travellers  at  the  long  table,  upon 
which  might  be  read  the  names  of  all  the  servants.  There  sat 
a  third  stranger  at  the  table,  a  young  peasant  from  Orebak, 
the  brother  of  Marie's  first  wooer. 

The  exterior  of  the  castle  is  unchanged  even  at  the  present 
day.  The  huge  pair  of  antlers  decorate  the  huntsman's  door, 
and  the  entrance  to  the  apartments  of  the  family  is  through 
the  high  tower  —  there  where  the  winding  staircase,  formed 
of  huge  beams  laid  over  each  other,  leads  to  the  battlements. 
Along  the  garden-wall  still  grow,  in  the  inner  court  of  the  cas- 
tle, the  long  rows  of  blooming  linden-trees. 

Every  emblem  of  a  former  age  reminded  the  tailor  of  sim- 
ilar things  which  he  had  seen  during  his  wanderings  in  Ger- 
many, and  he  drew  comparisons  each  time.  Such  splendid 
lindens  as  these  he  had  only  seen  in  Bohemia,  in  the  long 
shady  avenues  where  he  had  sung  to  his  Krasna  holga.  The 
old  castle  itself,  with  its  high  towers,  he  fancied  he  had  seen 
far  a'vay  on  the  Danube,  as  the  boat  glided  merrily  past,  over 
abyss  and  whirlpool.  Yes,  the  cool  vault  in  which  he  now  sat 
1  His  beautiful  girl. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  47 

drinking,  between  the  two  thick  pillars,  reminded  him  of  the 
convent  cloisters.  And  of  what  the  heart  is  full  will  the 
mouth  speak,  let  it  please  other  people  or  not. 

"  Then  travel  again  !  "  interrupted,  at  length,  his  drinking 
companions. 

"  1  must  now  put  on  the  red  coat,"  said  the  young  peasant  \ 
"  in  four  weeks  I  must  enter :  but  I  have  been  counseled, 
and  am  also  inclined  to  take  a  representative.  I  would  count 
you  a  thousand  dollars  in  bills,  down  on  the  table,  if  you 
would  like  to  serve  in  my  stead." 

A  thousand  dollars  in  bills  !  What  a  perfume  lay  in  these 
white  leaves  !  a  perfume  which  was  able  to  fill  the  heart  with 
dreams  of  riches.  The  poor  tailor  looked  up  and  saw  the 
green  tops  of  the  linden-trees  through  the  high  window.  Were 
they  these  green  leaves  or  those  white  ones  which  most 
strongly  influenced  his  heart. 

Without  the  castle  court  stands  the  trunk  of  an  old  oak. 
At  that  time  the  entire  tree  was  yet  preserved,  and  a  large 
iron  cross,  a  memory  of  Catholic  times,  was  fastened  on  the 
trunk.  When  the  Spaniards  lay  in  Funen,  in  the  year  1808, 
this  tree  was  to  them  a  way-side  crucifix,  an  altar  under  the 
free  heaven,  before  which  they  knelt  down  and  worshipped. 
Those  figures  burnt  by  the  hot  sun  lay  here  among  the  fresh 
green,  and  riveted  their  dark  eyes,  full  of  confidence,  upon 
the  holy  sign  ;  the  priest  stood  there,  and  the  psalm  resounded 
in  the  foreign  melodious  tongue.  Now  the  old  oak  was  no 
longer  what  it  had  been  ;  the  lightning  had  destroyed  its 
vigor,  and  there  arose  only  one  single  green  branch  from  the 
scorched  trunk.  The  road  was  to  be  improved,  and  therefore 
the  old  tree  must  away.  Already  had  the  axe  penetrated 
deep  ;  a  long  rope  was  attached  to  the  trunk,  and  at  a  proper 
distance  horses  were  fastened  to  it.  The  tree  must  soon  fall. 

The  tailor  and  his  travelling  companions  stood  on  the  road 
as  the  whip  was  cracked,  and  the  horses  with  all  their  power 
pulled  away  for  the  first  time.  The  old  stem  trembled,  but 
yet  stood  firm.  There  was  another  attempt,  and  it  sank  with 
a  cracking  sound  to  the  earth,  twisted  itself  in  falling,  and 
turned  the  iron  cross  toward  the  sky ;  thus  lay  there  the 
proud  corpse  with  its  order  ot  its  breast. 


48  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

The  sergeant  made  a  similar  observation.  But  the  tailor 
absorbed  in  thought,  looked  upon  the  ground  ;  -.hat  upon 
which  he  meditated  became  ever  clearer  and  clearer  to  him- 
"To  meet  with  death  upon  the  field  of  honor  is,  after  all,  the 
best  lot !  and  then  one  may  escape  with  life.  O,  if  only  Ma- 
rie would  think  so  !  " 

"How!"  asked  the  sergeant,  "will  you  not  then  try  your 
fuck  ?  Life  in  the  open  air  is  quite  a  different  thing  to  eter- 
nally sitting  upon  a  table.  This  morning  you  saw  the  first 
stork  ;  he  flew,  that  means  that  you  also  will  fly  away." 

The  tailor  was  silent 

Straight  across  the  road  lay  the  old  oak,  in  the  wide-spread 
ing  crown  of  which  the  stork  hundreds  of  years  ago,  had  rat 
tied  with  his  bill  his  good  tidings  of  hot  summer  days.  The 
old  castle  reflected  itself  in  the  water.  Appearance  and  real- 
ity formed  a  beautiful  whole.  The  locality  and  the  surround- 
ing objects  worked  together  upon  the  soul  of  the  dreamer,  like 
the  musical  wand  of  the  natural  philosopher  upon  the  glass 
tablets  ;  significant  musical  figures  arose. 

Stalactites,  the  wings  of  the  butterfly,  and  the  flying  clouds, 
have  all  their  strange  natural  hieroglyphics,  which  man  knows 
not  how  to  explain,  although  they  announce  the  strength  of  a 
world  understood  only  in  its  development.  The  heart  of  man 
sometimes  exhibits  similar  ciphers,  which  it  is  itself  unable  to 
comprehend.  The  unseen  director  of  fate  writes  there  his 
mene,  mene,  tekel,  upharsin,  and  a  necessity  awakes  ;  an  inex- 
plicable "  I  must,"  is  the  next  effect 

"  Have  you  never,"  asked  the  dreamer,  "  heard  of  the 
Venus  Mountain  ?  it  is  spoken  of  in  old  histories.  Many  a 
stately  knight,  nay,  even  the  poor  wandering  journeyman,  with 
his  knapsack  on  his  back,  have  entered  this  enchanted  king- 
dom, and  seldom  returned.  But  did  it  ever  chance  that  one  of 
these  returned  to  his  friends,  he  was  never  quite  himself  again  ; 
he  suffered  from  a  longing,  and  must  either  away  or  die.  Now 
to  my  mind  this  is  a  little  story,  which  one  can  easily  imag- 
ine was  invented  by  some  one  who  had  wandered  about  a 
deal  in  the  world,  and  was  then  obliged  to  leave  all  the  splen- 
dors of  foreign  lands  to  embitter  his  life  far  away  in  his  home. 
During  the  five  years  that  I  was  on  my  wanderings,  yes  I  also 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER t  49 

saw  the  Venus  Mountain ;  for  what  else  but  the  splendor  of 
the  world  is  meant  by  it?  Now  I  am  again  at  home,  and 
therefore  I  suffer  an  eternal  restlessness  ;  longing  is  my  daily 
work,  a  love  of  travel  my  pillow,  and  would  Marie  —  !  But 
she  must  be  willing  ! "  And  at  these  words  his  eyes  sparkled, 
and  he  seized  the  sergeant's  hand,  saying,  "  I  will  be  a  sol- 
dier." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

*  A  holy  spring  where  pious  me* 
From  all  the  country  gather. 
...  .1  saw  them  drink :  was  it  the  gleam 
Of  sunny  light,  or  e'en  the  water's  might, 
That  flushed  again  their  pallid  cheeks  ?  " 

OEHLENSCHLAGSB. 

A  FEW  miles  from  the  town  of  Nyborg,  between  the  vil- 
lage of  Orebak  and  Frorup,  lies  the  well  of  St.  Regissa, 
which,  according  to  tradition,  receives  its  name  from  a  very 
God-fearing  woman,  who  was  severely  persecuted  by  wicked 
men  —  so  wicked  that  they  even  killed  the  children  of  this 
pious  lady.  On  the  spot  where  this  occurred  there  immedi- 
ately sprang  forth  a  fountain.  When  the  lady  Regissa  had 
been  long  dead,  there  came  many  pious  pilgrims  hither  from 
a  far  distance  to  drink  the  water  of  this  well,  and,  in  memory 
of  the  good  lady,  they  erected  a  chapel  over  the  spring,  and 
hung  her  picture  within  it.  Every  year,  on  the  eve  of  the  fes- 
tival of  St  Boel,  mass  was  celebrated ;  but  when  Luther's 
doctrine  was  introduced,  the  chapel  was  allowed  to  fall  into 
decay.  The  spring,  however,  bubbles  still,  and  is  every  year, 
at  midsummer,  very  industriously  visited,  and  a  yearly  fair 
held. 

Doubtless  it  was  the  desire  of  withdrawing  from  the  gaze 
of  the  multitude  which  gave  rise  to  the  custom  of  spending 
the  night  of  St.  John's  Eve  at  the  spring.  At  sunset  the 
nick  people  wash  themselves  with  the  spring-water,  and  then 
orepare  for  their  couch.  Next  morning  they  again  break  up, 
ghe  weaker  ones  return  home,  the  strong  remain  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  the  fair. 

In  the  village  of  Frorup,  where  the  well-market  is  held,  peo- 
ple were  busy  erecting  booths  and  tents.  On  all  by-roads  you 
•aw  people  riding  and  walking  with  their  sick :  some  were  al 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  51 

resaty  walking  in  the  meadow,  through  which,  among  hazel- 
bushes  and  alders,  the  stream  flows.  High  and  single  trees 
sbadod  them,  and  the  people  still,  according  to  the  Catholic 
custom,  hang  their  offering  garlands,  which  consist  of  a  few 
tapers,  on  the  stems  of  these  trees.  The  green  hedges  of  this 
meadow  serve  the  sick  people  as  a  kind  of  screen,  whi.st  un- 
dressing and  bathing  ;  their  old  clothes  they  leave  hanging  on 
the  hedges,  where  the  poor  beg  them  for  their  own  use. 

Marie  came  alone  with  Christian  ;  she  carried  with  her  an 
old  coverlet,  to  protect  the  boy  from  the  cold  at  night ;  she 
had  brought  an  old  coat  of  her  husband's,  to  answer  the  same 
purpose  for  herself. 

"  I  will  remain  with  thee,"  said  she.  "  If  I  can  sleep,  it  is 
well ;  if  not,  neither  will  it  be  the  first  time  that  I  have 
watched  beside  thee.  Yes,  child,  thou  dost  not  know  all  I 
have  endured  on  thy  account.  The  cares  and  toils  of  a  mother, 
children  only  learn  when  they,  in  their  turn  become  parents. 
How  much  anxiety  did  I  endure  whilst  I  bore  thee  beneath 
my  heart !  I  have  risked  my  life  for  thee.  Long  nights  have 
I,  carrying  thee  in  my  arms,  walked  up  and  down  the  floor, 
and  listened  to  thy  breathing ;  worked  throughout  the  day, 
watched  throughout  the  night :  that  was  a  lot  indeed  !  Every- 
thing which  I  possibly  could  do  have  I  done  for  thee,  and 
will  also  do  in  future,  my  child,  if  thou  canst  only  become 
healthy.  I  have  only  thee  ;  thou  art  my  only  child.  Let  thy 
father  travel,  in  God's  name,  if  he  cannot  stay."  She  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears,  but  soon  recovered  herself  again,  kissed 
her  son  on  his  eyes  and  mouth,  and  approached  the  spring. 

Many  thoughts  passed  through  her  soul.  In  Orebak  she 
had  met  her  husband  in  company  with  the  sergeant  and  the 
young  peasant.  She  entered  the  farm  of  her  first  wooer,  who 
joked  with  her,  saying,  "All  this  might  have  been  thine."  The 
strong  ale,  the  mead,  and  the  beautiful  home-made  bread  were 
tasted,  and  she  was  informed,  at  first  in  joke,  and  then  in  ear 
nest,  of  her  husband's  desire  to  enlist  into  the  army  instead  of 
the  young  peasant. 

"  Only  see,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  he  need  not  travel  away  on 
that  account.  He  only  has  his  number  in  the  company." 
And  he  often  introduced  the  thousand  dollars  in  his  discourse. 


5 2  O.VZK  A   FIDDLER! 

"  He  has  his  own  free  will,"  answered  Marie  ;  "  I  do  not 
detain  him,"  was  her  last  word  ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  was 
as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She  would  not  stay,  the  evening 
meal  was  sufficient  for  her  ;  she  said  she  did  not  require  sup- 
per. Her  husband  and  the  sergeant,  however,  remained,  and 
passed  the  night  with  the  brother  of  the  young  soldier. 

She  now  stood  beside  the  spring.  Here  and  there  people 
had  commenced  bathing,  others  were  busied  in  preparing  a 
lodging  for  the  night ;  the  best  consisted  in  a  bedstead  which 
had  been  brought  from  a  neighboring  farm,  and  was  placed 
beneath  a  hazel-bush  ;  the  others  were  either  made  of  straw, 
or  people  had  chosen  their  couches  in  a  wagon.  The  fire 
blazed  behind  the  low  turf  wall,  where  boiled  the  coffee-kettle, 
and  where  some  older  women  warmed  their  hands. 

The  whole  presented  one  of  those  scenes  which  are  vanish- 
ing more  and  more  out  of  our  peasants'  life,  and  which  at  the 
same  time  carry  us  back  many  centuries.  Could  a  dead  man, 
over  whos^  grave  the  psalms  of  monks  resounded  in  Catholic 
Denmark,  rise  out  of  his  grave  and  float  over  the  meadow,  he 
must  have  believed  that  everything  remained  in  the  same  state 
in  old  Denmark  as  at  the  time  when  he  closed  his  eyes.  The 
people  p-essed,  still  with  the  same  pious  superstition  in  their 
hearts,  around  the  holy  spring ;  the  church-bells  rang  at  sun- 
set as  formerly,  when  they  called  to  Ave  Maria  ;  and  even  in 
the  village  church  still  smiled  the  picture  of  the  Mother  of 
God,  with  little  Jesus  in  her  lap.  Trje  nearest  country-house, 
old  Ore'  fckkelunde,  stood  also  still  unchanged,  with  its  irreg- 
ular gfr'  ies  and  the  high  tower  —  that  perfect  Gothic  building  ! 

Not  far  from  the  spot  where  Christian  was  bathed  with  the 
cold,  refreshing  spring-water,  stood  two  women  with  a  young 
girl,  who  might  be  about  thirteen  years  old.  There  was  no 
bodily  ailment  to  be  remarked  in  the  child,  and  she  showed  no 
signs  of  an  internal  malady.  Her  countenance  bore  the  im- 
press of  perfect  health ;  her  figure  was  almost  entirely  devel- 
oped, her  long  hair  hung  down  over  her  round  white  shoulders, 
and  the  red  evening  sun  illuminated  a  smiling  joyous  counte,- 
nance.  The  younger  of  the  two  women  was  the  girl's  mother  . 
she  poured  a  cup  of  water  over  her  daughter's  head  ;  the  drops 
glittered  on  her  back  and  shoulders ;  she  divided  her  rich  hair 
»nd  sang  with  a  clear  voice :  — 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  53 

"  Hear  Him,  see  Him  looking  down, 

On  His  brows  the  thorny  crown. 

Sing  the  praise  of  roses  !  * 

The  elder  woman  —  she  was  the  sick  girl's  grandmother  — 
fdl  upon  her  knees,  and  with  folded  hands  prayed  the  Lord's 
Prayer. 

The  evening  was  unusually  mild,  but  dark  clouds  rose  over 
the  Belt. 

No  circumstances  of  life  are  more  likely  to  cause  an  inti- 
macy between  people  than  mutual  misfortune  and  a  similarity 
of  condition.  Therefore  Marie  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  a  dis- 
course with  this  family.  They  spoke  of  their  sick  children, 
and  of  the  virtue  of  the  spring.  It  would  heal  no  epilepsy," 
said  the  grandmother ;  but,  added  she  immediately,  "  if  God 
would  assist  them,  He  could  easily  make  it  possible.  There 
is  only  one  means,"  said  she,  then,  "  which  never  fails,  "  and 
she  named  that  universal  remedy  among  the  people,  which  the 
younger  generation  may,  perhaps,  believe  originated  in  the 
brain  of  a  Eugene  Sue,  but  which,  nevertheless,  was  practiced 
in  Denmark  not  so  long  ago.  We  mean  the  revolting  remedy 
of  conducting  epileptic  patients  to  the  place  of  execution,  in 
order  to  gain  permission  from  the  criminal  to  drink  of  his  warm 
blood  when  his  head  should  be  struck  off  the  trunk. 

Marie  shuddered  at  these  words.  No  !  that,  indeed,  should 
never  happen  to  her  boy. 

The  lodgings  for  the  night  were  soon  arranged.  The  young 
girl  and  her  grandmother  were  to  sleep  in  the  cart ;  the  small 
space  which  still  remained  over  was  offered  Christian.  The 
mother  of  the  sick  girl  and  Marie  seated  themselves  on  a  bun- 
ble  of  straw,  threw  their  dresses  over  their  heads,  and  leaned 
against  the  cart. 

Silence  now  reigned  around ;  you  heard  the  flowing  of  the 
spring,  and  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  sleepers.  Christian 
prayed  his  evening  prayer,  as  his  mother  had  taught  him,  and 
closed  his  eyes  to  sleep ;  but,  someway,  this  was  not  so  easy. 
With  a  kind  of  terror  he  thought  of  the  young  girl  with  her 
deranged  mind ;  his  feet  touched  hers  ;  she  slept  calmly  and 
deeply.  He  looked  toward  heaven  ;  high  up  in  the  deep  b!-:e, 
flittered  innumerable  stars;  CharlesVwain  stretched  above 


54  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

his  head.  Soon  he  found  himself  in  the  mingled  conditions  of 
sleeping  and  waking.  He  dreamed,  and  yet  he  was  aware  that 
a  dream-picture  occupied  him.  He  knew  right  well  where  he 
was,  for  he  heard  the  splash  of  the  spring ;  but  when  he  opened 
his  eyes  all  had  a  strange  resemblance  with  the  Jew's  garden, 
where  he  had  played  with  Naomi,  —  only  here  was  everything 
greater.  The  air  became  clearer ;  he  fancied  he  heard  Naomi's 
voice  ;  certainly,  she  called  to  him !  —  she  named  his  name  : 
but  he  did  not  dare  to  answer,  for  the  insane  girl  who  slept  at 
his  feet  might  awake.  Surrounding  objects  now  assumed  a 
milder  aspect.  He  recognized  the  stork  which  stood  there, 
clapping  her  bill  and  feeding  her  young  ones.  It  was  Naomi 
who  sat  beside  him ;  he  gazed  into  her  large  black  eyes,  she 
showered  beautiful  flowers  over  him,  and  called  them  money. 
They  played  so  splendidly  with  each  other,  and  he  again  gave 
her,  as  at  the  first  time,  his  mouth  and  his  eyes  as  a  pledge ; 
she  really  took  them,  and  he  felt  the  pain.  All  around  him 
was  gloomy  night ;  but  he  heard  her  carriage  roll  away.  Fare- 
well !  farewell !  cried  she  to  him :  and  the  carriage  vanished 
in  the  air.  He  rose,  and  although  the  empty  sockets  and 
bleeding  lips  burnt,  was  she  his  sole  thought.  He  felt  himself 
light  as  a  feather,  and  wished  to  follow  Naomi  through  the  air : 
but  that  insane  maiden  had  awoke,  and  held  him  fast ;  she  had 
flung  her  arms  round  his  legs,  and  held  him  fast  and  ever  faster 
as  Naomi's  carriage  rolled  ever  further  away.  Then  did  he 
gather  his  last  strength  together  to  free  himself,  and  —  awoke. 
He  had  only  been  in  a  dream,  which  had  busied  his  soul,  — 
that  he  was  quite  aware  of;  and  yet  he  still  heard  the  rolling 
of  the  carriage  through  the  sky.  Something  lay  heavy  on  his 
feet,  therefore  did  he  raise  himself.  There  sat  she,  like  a  glit- 
tering nymph,  with  bare  bosom  and  shoulders,  shrouded  in  her 
luxuriant  hair.  But  only  one  moment  was  she  visible.  The 
phosphoric  light  which  surrounded  her  vanished;  it  became 
pitch-dark  night,  and  in  the  distance  rolled  the  thunder. 

"  It  burns  within  me ! "  said  she.  "  It  is  as  though  my 
heart's  blood  were  leaving  me,  and  I  had  only  fire  within  me. 
Dost  thou  sleep,  little  boy  ? " 

Christian  did  not  dare  to  answer.  It  was  the  crazy  girl  who 
uielt  upon  his  feet.  She  had  partly  stripped  off  her  clothe* 
rnd  stretched  her  naked  arms  toward  heaven. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


55 


"  Dost  thou  not  hear  how  the  bulls  are  bellowing  ? "  again 
asked  she.  "  They  chase  each  other  like  glowing  daggers. 
If  they  stick  these  knives  into  thy  breast,  thou  must  die ;  if 
they  touch  thy  house,  it  stands  in  bright  flames  ;  the  strongest 
tree  they  split.  Didst  thou  not  see  their  horns  ?  They  glance 
like  copper  and  tin.  Do  not  be  afraid !  Soon  they  will  be 
gone,  and  then  only  the  little  calves  follow.  They  have  little 
horns,  which  come  forth  from  the  black  clouds  in  zigzag." 

A  bright  flash  of  lightning,  which  was  immediately  followed 
by  the  thunder,  awoke  all  the  sleepers  around.  Terrified, 
started  up  the  women.  The  old  woman  seized  the  half-naked 
girl,  who  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  cart.  The  storm-wind 
rushed  through  her  locks,  and  raised  the  thin  covering  high  in 
the  air. 

"  O  God !  "  was  the  universal  cry ;  and  each  one  busiec1 
herself  in  covering  her  sick  patient.  Christian  was  laid  under 
a  horse-cloth,  but  the  next  gust  of  wind  tore  it  away  from  him  ; 
and  it  would,  had  not  Marie  prevented  it,  have  flown  far  away. 
Trees  and  bushes  shook  like  thin  reeds ;  leaves  and  broken 
branches  flew  about :  and  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult  of  the 
storm  was  heard  the  young  girl  singing,  the  women  praying. 

Suddenly  there  darted  a  fearful  flash  of  lightning,  whilst  the 
thunder  burst  deafening  above  them.  The  very  cart  seemed 
to  move,  and  Christian  saw  the  whole  country  illuminated  for 
one  moment  by  the  most  dazzling  light.  Every  bush,  every 
tree,  the  church  and  the  houses,  in  short  all  objects  stepped 
distinctly  forth  ;  and  in  the  cart  the  young  maiden  arose, 
wrapped  only  in  a  thin  garment.  She  spread  out  her  hair 
with  her  hands,  shrieked  wildly,  and  sprang  out  of  the  cart. 
In  the  next  moment  the  whole  country  lay  again  in  black 
night.  There  reigned  the  silence  of  the  grave. 

"  Where  is  Lucie  ? "  cried  at  once  the  mother  and  grand- 
mother. "  My  God  !  where  is  she  ? " 

They  felt  about  with  their  hands,  but  only  struck  against 
irees  and  bushes. 

The  rain  now  poured  down  in  torrents.  The  two  women 
sent  forth  a  cry  of  agony,  which  sounded  above  the  thunder. 
The  grandmother  felt  with  her  hands  along  the  ground  for  the 
ost  girl ;  the  mother  flew  through  rain  and  wind,  shouting  the 


56  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

name  of  her  unhappy  daughter.  Christian  clung  fast  to  his 
mother.  It  was  a  fearful  night. 

Again  a  loud  thunder-clap  followed ;  then  the  tempest 
abated.  The  successive  peals  were  much  weaker ;  and  the 
rain  now  only  fell  in  single  drops.  But  the  whole  of  this  in- 
terval was  full  of  the  most  terrible  torture  to  the  poor  mother, 
who  rushed  over  stock  and  stone  in  search  of  her  child.  One 
moment,  by  the  brightness  of  the  lightning,  she  believed  she 
saw  something  white  floating  before  her  over  the  field  :  she 
ran  on  in  that  direction,  but  was  soon  stopped  in  her  course 
by  walls  and  ditches.  She  imagined  that  amidst  the  crash 
of  the  thunder  and  the  howling  of  the  storm  she  heard  the 
voice  of  her  unfortunate  daughter  ;  which  was,  however,  quite 
impossible,  for  the  storm  overpowered  every  sound,  and,  be- 
sides, forced  her  on  with  the  wind,  which  then  by  its  power 
carried  her  along  like  a  shuttle-cock,  so  that  sometimes  she 
seemed  to  fly  over  the  earth.  At  length  she  stopped  short 
before  an  inclosure ;  then,  as  if  by  instinct,  mounted  on  the 
wall,  to  be  the  next  moment  by  a  whirlwind  thrown  over  to 
the  other  side,  into  the  long  grass.  The  lightning  illuminated 
the  country  for  a  moment,  and  she  saw  the  old  mansion  of 
Orebakkelunde,  with  its  tower,  strong  pillars,  and  Gothic  ga- 
bles, lying  before  her.  She  was  in  the  garden,  where  stand 
the  old-fashioned  clipped  hedges  and  white  statues.  Was  it 
one  of  these  white  statues  which  seemed  to  move  itself  in  the 
lightning,  or  was  it  her  daughter  ?  Her  knees  trembled  ;  full 
of  anguish  she  cried,  "  Lucie  !  "  whilst  the  storm  whirled  the 
young  green  leaves,  as  well  as  the  fallen  yellow  ones,  into  the 
air. 

Early  the  next  morning  Christian  awoke  from  a  deep  sleep. 
His  mother  and  the  grandmother  sat  on  the  shafts,  and  lis- 
tened eagerly  to  the  relation  of  Lucie's  mother.  She  was  only 
just  now  returned  ;  and  her  joy  was  almost  as  great  as  had 
been  her  grief.  "  Her  daughter  now  slept  a  healthful  sleep  in 
the  gardener's  cottage  at  Orebakkelunde,"  said  she.  There, 
in  the  garden,  had  she  found  her  daughter,  cowering  down  be- 
side a  statue,  her  head  leaning  on  the  pedestal.  The  tempest 
had  caused  people  to  be  astir  in  the  court.  In  the  gardener's 
dwelling  burnt  a  light,  and  there  the  terrified  mother  received 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  57 

assistance,  there  was  Lucie  laid  in  bed.  "  Mother,  I  have 
no  clothes  on  !  "  had  been  her  only  words,  whilst  she  yet 
shook  from  the  effect  of  a  strong  flash  of  lightning,  which 
darted  into  the  earth  near  her,  and  which  had  restored  her  to 
a  kind  of  consciousness.  Then  she  shed  torrents  of  tears  ; 
but  at  length  her  eyes  closed,  and  she  now  slept  a  refreshing 
sleep. 

"  Perhaps  the  good  God  has  taken  compassion  upon  her," 
said  the  old  grandmother.  "  She  was  healthy  and  strong,  like 
other  people,  until  once  after  a  similar  tempest  she  returned 
home  from  the  fields,  where  the  lightning  had  split  a  tree." 
Whether  she  by  this  means  had  drawn  upon  herself  this  mis- 
fortune, whether  before  the  outbreak  of  the  storm  she  had  slept 
and  received  a  coup-de-soleil,  or  whether  evil  powers  had  been 
busy  and  shown  her  things  which  were  able  to  confound  the 
understanding  of  a  mortalj  they  knew  not ;  but  her  brain  was 
sick,  that  was  only  too  true.  It  was  now  the  second  year 
that  she  had  travelled  with  her  to  the  spring.  God  might 
clear  her  understanding,  or  take  her  rather  to  himself. 


CHAPTER   IX 

'  Ah  !  what  joy  to  be  a  soldier  I "  —  SCRIBE. 

IN  the  afternoon,  everything  at  the  spring  assumed  quite 
another  appearance.  On  the  green  plot,  where  in  the 
night  the  sick  had  sighed  and  prayed,  now  danced  the  healthy, 
whilst  the  fiddle  and  the  clarionet  played  an  old  Anglaise.  From 
the  well  itself  drank  youths  and  maidens  to  the  health  of  love 
—  of  that  love  which  the  blood,  and  not  the  soul,  knows. 

In  the  village  there  was  the  gay  fair.  Boots  and  earthen- 
ware, toys  and  puppets  —  everything  was  exhibited  for  sale. 
Christian  had  also  received  his  fairing ;  for  in  his  hand  he  car- 
ried his  old  hat,  and  upon  his  head  the  new  one,  round  which, 
with  twine,  was  still  fastened  the  newspaper  sheet.  He  stood 
with  his  parents  before  a  booth,  where  caps  embroidered  with 
spangles  were  offered  cheap  ;  beautiful  Nuremberg  pictures, 
together  with  the  Prussian  soldiers  and  the  Turk  in  his  harem, 
,vere  hung  out.  Marie  said  that  this  looked  like  a  girls'  school. 
There  stood  a  wandering  Italian  with  his  plaster  casts,  such 
ones  as  the  people  love  here  in  the  country  —  green  parrots  and 
a  Napoleon.  The  tailor  commenced  directly,  with  both  mouth 
and  fingers,  to  speak  Italian ;  and  Marie  said  to  the  sergeant 
she  could  hear  that  it  was  no  German  that  her  husband  spoke 
with  the  cast-seller.  The  Italian  laughed,  nodded  his  head  in 
a  friendly  manlier,  and  talked  away ;  yes,  he  at  last  made  Chris- 
tian a  present  of  a  parrot  which  had  broken  its  foot. 

Close  by  fluttered  silken  ribbons  and  gay  handkerchiefs,  from 
a  pole  which  was  fastened  to  a  table,  behind  which  stood  an 
acquaintance,  who  shouted  his  greeting  to  our  family.  It  was 
old  Joel,  who  had  served  Naomi's  grandfather,  and  who  had 
conveyed  his  master's  consumed  remains  to  the  grave  of  his 
fathers. 

"  It  goes  well  with  the  daughter's  daughter,"  said  he  ;  "  lit 
tie  Naomi  suffers  no  want.  She  is  dressed  in  rich  stuffs  and 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I  59 

muslins,  wears  golden  rings  on  her  fingers,  and  diamonds  on 
her  breast.  She  will  some  time  become  an  incomparable  beau 
ty,  like  Queen  Esther.  " 

"  Have  you  been  lately  at  the  seat  ? "  asked  Marie  of  him. 

"  No,  there  I  do  not  come,"  returned  the  old  Israelite ; 
"  that  is  an  agreement.  I  have  not  been  there  since  the  day  on 
which  my  master  became  coal  and  ashes,  when  I  informed  them 
how  forlorn  the  poor  child  was.  I  spoke  then  with  the  young 
Count  and  the  old  Countess,  who  can  be  as  bitter  as  the  mix- 
ture she  drinks.  But,  nevertheless,  I  remain  what  I  am  ;  and 
there  are  already  ways  for  me  without  stepping  upon  her  do- 
main. Naomi  is  well  off!  Ah,  her  poor  mother!  A  more 
beautiful  woman  I  never  saw.  Now  the  flower  is  become  dust, 
and  her  white  teeth  are  a  poor  ornament !  " 

"  That  handkerchief  would  be  a  pretty  ornament  for  thee," 
said  the  witty  tailor,  parodying  the  Jew's  words,  and  pointed  to 
a  handkerchief  of  blue  cotton  with  red  and  yellow  flowers. 
"  Tako  it !  for  now  we  are  rich."  And  at  the  same  time  he 
clapped  his  pocket,  in  which  were  the  five  hundred  rix-dollars 
and  the  contract  with  his  captain  for  taking  the  place  of  the 
young  soldier. 

Marie  shook  her  head,  sighed  deeply,  but  her  eyes,  neverthe- 
less, turned  toward  the  handkerchief:  the  colors  were  so  bright, 
the  pattern  so  uncommon. 

"  If  I  am  the  first  person  from  whom  you  have  received 
money  to-day,"  said  the  tailor,  "  it  will  be  well  with  your  busi- 
ness, for  I  give  lucky  press-money !  Don't  be  so  sad,  Marie  ! 
God  knows  when  we  shall  come  again  to  the  market,  and 
whether  we  shall  then  have  such  beautiful  sunshine,  or  so  much 
money  in  our  pockets  ! "  He  flung  the  pretty  handkerchief 
round  her,  and  she  smiled  through  her  tears,  just  as  she  after- 
wards smiled  when  at  home  her  husband  spread  the  notes  out 
on  the  table,  saying,  "  See !  all  this,  and  twice  as  much,  is  thy 
nusband  worth  !  Now,  don't  cry  !  The  salt  tears  will  fall  on 
Jie  money,  and  then  there  will  be  neither  luck  nor  a  blessing 
in  it.  I  am  become  a  subaltern ;  and  that  is  the  commence- 
ment to  being  an  officer !  So  near  art  thou  to  being  a  gracious 
kady ! " 

"  In  fourteen  days  thou  wilt  go  to  Odense  to  learn  the  exer 


60  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

cise  !  "  said  Marie.  "  Only  one  month  will  it  last,  thou  sayest, 
and  then  I  shall  have  thee  again  !  Yes,  God  knows  thou  hast 
no  rest  in  thee,  thou  canst  not  do  otherwise  !  Dost  thou  think 
I  have  never  heard  thee  talking  in  thy  sleep  of  foreign  coun- 
tries ?  Often  in  thy  sleep  thou  hast  wept  like  a  child,  and  it 
has  pained  my  very  soul.  The  old  calendar,  in  which  whilst 
thou  wast  abroad  thou  didst  write  the  day  and  the  year  when 
thou  wast  in  certain  places  —  this  calendar,  I  tell  thee,  which 
thou  hast  so  often  brought  forth  to  relate  things  out  of  to 
me,  —  Good  God !  this  day  so  many  years  ago  I  was  there  ! 
Then  I  was  not  sitting  here  on  the  table  !  —  this  calendar 
seems  to  me  a  Cyprianus-book,  from  which  thou  dost  read 
nothing  good.  Now  thou  canst  write  in  it  the  day  when  thou 
didst  leave  thy  wife  and  child.  Did  I  not  know  better,  I 
might  be  tempted  to  believe  thou  hadst  given  thy  heart  to 
some  one  else  abroad,  and  that  she  robbed  thee  of  thy  peace. 
No  one  loves  thee,  after  all,  as  well  as  I  do  ;  and  the  lad  is 
thine  —  that  can  I  say  with  a  good  conscience." 

"  Marie,"  answered  her  husband,  "  thou  wilt  not  make  me 
sad !  If  I  have  done  ill,  complaint  will  now  avail  nothing. 
Let  us  rather  contemplate  the  affair  from  the  cheerful  side. 
This  evening  the  sergeant  and  the  godfather  are  coming  here  ; 
ask  the  glover,  and  the  old  cooper  also,  to  come  over,  and  let 
us  drink  a  bowl  of  punch  as  on  our  wedding-day !  " 

Never  before  had  Christian  seen  such  a  large  company  as- 
sembled in  the  little  room  :  there  were  nine  of  them.  The 
godfather  had  brought  his  fiddle  with  him,  and  played  all 
kinds  of  merry  things,  told  little  stories  of  the  stammering 
woman,  and  the  whirling  man,  and  knew  so  naturally  how  to 
imitate  all  on  his  riddle,  that  his  accomplishments  increased 
the  gayety  of  all  the  guests.  They  laughed  and  sang,  and  the 
evening  passed  in  merriment, 

The  following  day  was  all  the  more  melancholy ;  but  the 
most  melancholy  one  was  when  the  father  must  depart  for 
Odense.  Marie  and  Christian  accompanied  him  as  far  as 
Quarndrup  ;  and  when  the  wagon  drove  away  the  two  stood 
in  the  high  church-yard,  so  as  to  look  after  the  wagon  as 
long  as  possible,  for  the  father  still  ever  waved  greetings  to 
them  with  his  hat.  But  the  road  now  made  a  turn  ;  and  they 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  6 1 

could  see  him  no  longer.  Then  Marie  leaned  her  head 
against  the  church  wall  and  wept  bitterly.  Then  she  wan- 
dered for  some  time  silent  among  the  graves,  arranged  the 
witheied  garlands,  and  weeded  the  grass  from  the  latest 
grave. 

"  If  one  only  rested  as  quietly  as  this  one  here !  "  said  she. 
"  How  difficult  is  the  way  through  life  until  we  come  so  far !  " 

Around  the  church  stands,  on  the  high  church-yard,  a  cir- 
cle of  old  trees ;  on  each  of  these  had  the  clergyman  of  the 
place  caused  small  boards,  bearing  edifying  mottoes  and  in- 
scriptions, to  be  nailed. 

"  These  are  no  printing  letters,"  said  Marie,  "  or  else  I 
could  read  them.  Canst  thou  read  them,  my  child  ? "  asked 
she  of  Christian. 

And  Christian  read  to  her  the  pious  words  ;  each  tree  with 
its  little  tablet  seemed  to  her  to  contain  a  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  of  consolation. 

"  The  good  God  in  heaven  can  bring  about  all  for  the  best," 
said  she.  "  Could  I  only  cast  a  glance  into  the  future  !  " 

Then  she  went  into  the  village,  to  one  of  the  last  houses, 
where  the  oven,  like  a  dome,  stood  out  into  the  street.  The 
horseshoe  on  the  threshold,  and  the  half  fire-steel  on  the  win- 
dow-frame, showed  plainly  that  evil  spirits  were  not  very  wel- 
come here.  It  was  the  house  of  the  wise  woman. 

The  coffee-kettle  was  immediately  put  on  the  fire,  and  the 
seeress  read  in  Marie's  cup  hope  and  despair,  but  yet  Hope 
had  the  preponderance :  Hope,  she  who  lines  with  velvet  the 
fetters  of  the  slave !  —  she,  who  writes  mercy  on  the  sword  of 
the  executioner !  —  she,  whose  tongue  sings  such  sweet,  false 
songs  !  Marie  might  hope  ! 

From  every  letter  which  the  father  now  sent  her,  fell  into 
Marie's  heart  drops  of  the  balm  of  consolation.  The  time 
passed  away. 

"  Next  week  he  will  come  back,"  said  she  to  her  friends  and 
neighbors  ;  "  to-day  there  are  only  six  days  till  his  arrival," 
said  she.  And  when  the  sixth  day  had  passed,  he  really 
came.  That  was  a  joy,  a  surprise  !  But  poor  Christian  lay 
in  bed,  the  spring  had  not  yet  cured  his  complaint.  Yet  his 
lather  was  returned,  and,  therefore,  did  Marie  rejoice.  But 


62  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

the  joy  was  only  short ;  it  turned  to  sorrow,  and  the  sorrow 
ended  in  tears.  Only  this  night  might  he  remain  with  her ; 
only  as  a  special  favor  had  this  furlough  of  eight  and-forty 
hours  been  granted  him.  The  regiment  was  to  break  up  , 
the  march  was  toward  Holstein,  where  they  were  to  take 
their  stand  with  the  French,  whilst  the  allied  northern  army 
and  its  assistant  Swedish  troops  threatened  the  frontiers. 

"  Be  not  cast  down,  Marie  !  I  will  do  thee  honor  ;  and  when 
we  get  booty,  I  will  think  of  thee  :  we  may  become  rich !  But 
do  not  weep  !  It  has  happened  thus  !  We  will  have  a  merry 
evening ;  I  will  now  lie  down  and  sleep  for  a  few  hours,  and 
then  I  must  away  again  for  Odense.  I  am  not  at  all  wearied 
from  my  march !  It  is  real  sorrow  to  see  thee  in  tears,  and 
poor  Christian  ill  and  suffering.  Must  my  last  evening  re- 
main so  sad  in  my  recollection  ? " 

"  No  !  "  said  Marie,  "  that  shall  not  be  !  "and  she  pressed 
back  her  last  tears  with  her  dark  eyelashes.  The  table  was 
spread,  the  godfather  came,  and  praised  the  soldier's  life. 
"  It  was  not  impossible,"  said  he,  "but  that  he  might  also  go 
with  them  ;  perhaps  he  should  even  be  among  them  before 
they  expected  it."  The  poor  boy  lay  suffering  in  his  bed ; 
he  had  just  fallen  asleep  when  his  father's  kiss  awoke  him  in 
the  early  morning.  Their  eyes  met ;  a  hot  tear  fell  upon 
Christian's  lips,  and  the  father  hastened  out  of  the  door.  Ma- 
rie followed  him.  The  whole  day  she  sat  speechless. 

"  Thou  hast  lost  thy  father  !  "     That  was  all  she  said. 

A  Danish  corps  of  auxiliaries  consisting  of  10,000  men, 
Teas  to  unite  itself  with  the  French  army  under  the  command 
of  Marshal  Davoust.  Toward  Holstein  and  Mecklenburg 
was  their  march.  Forward !  The  drums  beat,  and  the  host 
commenced  its  route  ;  but  faster  flew  the  birds-of-passage  over 
them,  singing  that  the  hot  summer  days  of  the  north  would 
be  followed  by  a  long  winter  night. 

"There  fly  the  storks!"  cried  the  tailor.  "This  time  I 
journey  with  you ! "  continued  he,  and  gazed  after  the  flight 
of  storks  until  they  vanished  from  his  eyes  like  a  swarm  of 
gnats. 

The  enemy's  troops  lay  on  the  Danish  frontiers.  The  son 
of  the  Steppes,  the  Asiatic  from  the  morasses  of  the  Don, 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  63 

careered  wildly  along  in  his  flying  kaftan,  with  leveled  lance, 
over  the  corn  ;  the  God  of  War  —  the  age  called  him  Napo- 
leon—  combated  alone  against  the  knights  of  all  'ands. 
There  was  a  great  tournament ;  it  was  the  last  chivalric  game 
which  he  played,  and,  therefore,  he  fought  alone.  Little 
Denmark  was  his  esquire  —  a  true,  enthusiastic  heart ;  but 
his  strength  was  not  equal  to  his  will. 

Days  and  weeks  passed  on  in  uncertainty  and  expectation 
here  in  Denmark :  several  honorable  battles  were  fought  in 
the  Mecklenburg  territory.  At  other  places  in  Germany  the 
French  suffered  defeats,  and  Davoust,  the  marshal  and  prince, 
must  retreat  before  Bernadotte,  the  former  marshal  and 
prince,  the  then  crown-prince  of  Sweden,  and  leader  of  the 
North  German  army.  Unceasing  marches  to  and  fro,  outpost 
skirmishes,  and  uncertainty  regarding  the  destination  of  the 
morrow,  belonged  to  the  order  of  the  day.  The  Danish  corps 
of  auxiliaries  was  commanded  by  Prince  Frederick  of  Hesse, 
and  was  divided  into  three  brigades.  One  was  stationed  in 
Liibeck,  under  the  French  General  Lallemand  ;  the  other  two 
returned  to  Oldesloe,  whilst  a  portion  of  the  northern  army 
and  of  the  Swedish  auxiliaries  pursued  the  Danish  corps. 

Where  was  Christian's  father,  whom  yearning  after  the  Ve- 
nus Mountain  had  enticed  from  his  quiet  home  ?  Hast  thou 
seen  the  columns  move  across  the  plain?  Didst  thou  see 
them  where  the  signal  is  death  ?  Like  an  enormous  crocodile 
they  draw  out  their  long  body,  —  a  bright  mingling  of  uniforms 
and  bayonets  !  The  roar  of  the  cannon  is  the  gigantic  creat- 
ure's voice,  the  smoke  his  poisonous  breath.  Thou  dost  not 
see  the  single  scales  which  the  monstrous  body  loses  in  the 
combat,  and  yet  is  each  a  human  life.  Only  where  the  whole 
immense  body  is  shivered  is  the  death-blow  perceptible ;  and, 
like  the  cut  worm,  the  different  parts  struggle  in  convulsive 
flight  over  the  field  of  battle. 

There  came  for  Marie  a  large  sealed  letter ;  closely  written 
was  it,  and  cost  a  deal  of  postage.  The  contents  were  the 
following :  — 

"  MY  DEAR  MADAME,  — 

"Do  n:>t  grieve  when  you  have  learned  the  contents  of 
this  letter,  although  you  may  soon  have  reasoi.  to  do  so. 


64  ONLY  A  FIDDLER' 

"  We  lay  in  Liibeck.  The  General  wished  to  spare  the  city, 
and  therefore  marched  from  thence  over  Segeberg  toward 
Bornhoved.  Now  you  must  know  the  country  between  these 
places  is  an  open  heath.  It  had  rained  for  many  days.  The 
roads  were  miserable,  two  steps  forward  and  one  backward ; 
that  made  one  exert  one's  strength.  Close  behind  we  had  the 
Swedish  cavalry  upon  our  heels  ;  but  it  came  to  a  few  skir- 
mishes between  the  lighthorse  of  both  armies.  But  Madame 
must  not  be  grieved  yet,  for  the  melancholy  news  will  cer- 
tainly not  come  before  the  last  page  of  my  letter.  I  might 
just  as  well  tell  it  you  immediately,  but  such  things  one  always 
learns  too  soon.  In  the  afternoon  we  approached  Bornhoved  ; 
the  heath  ceased,  and  the  country  was  more  broken  up.  We 
were  thus  better  protected  against  the  enemy's  cavalry.  Now 
you  must  observe  that  the  Prince  of  Hesse  had  garrisoned 
Bornhoved,  and,  with  the  two  other  Danish  brigades,  had 
marched  out  to  receive  us.  The  Polish  lancers  closed  our 
troops.  In  order  to  keep  back  the  enemy  until  the  brigade 
had  passed  through,  the  Prince  placed  on  the  road,  on  this 
side  the  village,  two  cannon,  and  near  to  them  a  battalion  of 
sharp-shooters.  Among  these  was  your  husband,  my  friend, 
for  my  letter  concerns  him,  as  you  may  easily  guess.  But  do 
not  terrify  yourself.  To-day  me,  to-morrow  thee  !  Opposite 
to  us  marched  the  Swedish  cavalry.  Our  battalions  stood  in 
divided  columns  on  either  side  the  way :  one  half  were  to  form 
quarre ;  but  the  enemy's  cavalry  had  already  galloped  past, 
and  were  attacking  Bornhoved.  The  other  half  stood  precisely 
opposite  us.  There  arose  disorder  among  our  ranks  ;  and, 
had  the  enemy  availed  themselves  of  this,  it  would  have  been 
over  with  us  :  but  the  enemy  did  not.  Dear  Madame,  this  will 
be  a  long  letter ;  but  you  must  know  all  the  particulars ;  and, 
*herefore,  I  copy  the  greater  part  of  my  report  from  the  gen- 
eral report,  so  that  you  may  be  able  to  rightly  understand  the. 
circumstances.  We  again  formed  a  battalion  ;  but  a  portion  cf 
the  enemy's  cavalry  had,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  galloped 
on  to  Bornhoved  ;  the  Polish  lancers,  who  closed  the  brigade 
lost  their  resolution,  and  pressed  upon  the  Holstein  cavalry , 
and  then  again  upon  the  troops  posted  behind  them.  The 
artillery  at  the  head  blocked  up  the  road  completely,  and  now 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  gtj 

arose  terrible  confusion.  More  than  a  hundred  men  were 
trampled  down  and  massacred.  The  press  prevented  any 
fighting.  The  enemy  was  pressed  against  each  other,  man 
against  man.  Meanwhile  the  Danish  infantry  fired  as  well  as 
it  could  ;  the  Swedes  were  obliged  to  give  way,  and,  in  retreat- 
ing, pass  along  the  road  where  were  posted  our  battalions. 
They  scoured  along  the  ramparts,  clinging  to  their  horses' 
necks ;  but  more  than  two  hundred  of  them  were  shot  down 
as  they  galloped  through  the  defile.  The  two  cannon  and 
their  escort  defended  themselves  courageously,  and,  to  the  last 
man,  continued  to  employ  their  cartridges  and  arms  ;  but 
only  one  survived  —  the  lieutenant  And  thus,  Madame, 
you  are  become  a  widow. 

"  This  is  my  melancholy  letter. 

"  Yours,  in  obedience  and  friendship, 

"  JORDSACH, 
"Commanding  Sergeant." 


CHAPTER  X, 

"  So  must  it  be  ! 

From  Rabenstein  I  gaze  with  stony  face, 
And  nothing  see." 

CHAMISSO. 

DEAD !  a  world  of  sorrow  lies  in  this  one  word.  It  is  a 
two-edged  sword,  which,  at  the  same  time  that  it 
murders  the  beloved  of  our  heart,  penetrates  so  deeply  into 
the  bosom  that  everything  around  us  becomes  dark,  even 
though  the  sun  shine  upon  millions  of  happy  beings.  A  single 
word,  short  as  the  other,  is  able  to  drop  consolation  into  the 
sick  heart  and  vouchsafe  assistance  ;  it  is  —  God ! 

"  Yes,  I  was  prepared  for  it !  "  said  Marie. 

But  she  was  not  prepared  for  this  dreadful  news.  The  dark, 
stormy  change  of  autumn  into  winter  made  the  mourner  yet 
more  desponding.  The  sky  was  gray,  and  rain  and  sleet  fell 
in  the  dirty  streets  ;  it  was  gloomy  without,  and  gloomy  within. 

"  Do  not  weep,"  said  Christian,  "  or  else  thou  also  wilt  die 
and  leave  me.  Thou  canst  wash  and  iron,  and  I  can  play  the 
fiddle  and  earn  money  by  it.  Thou  shalt  not  be  sad,  mother." 

"Thou  angel  of  God,"  answered  Marie,  "let  me  kiss  thee  ! 
Yes,  for  thee,  on  thy  account,  will  I  live :  what  would  else  be- 
come of  thee  ? " 

Never  had  the  festival  of  Christmas  drawn  near  amidst  such 
gloomy  prospects. 

"  The  farmer  in  Orebak  is  an  honest  fellow.  *  He  has  sent 
me  butter,  and  bread,  and  a  goose  for  Christmas.  Does  he 
then  really  think  of  me  ?  Yet,  no ;  I  will  never  again  take 
that  step.  I  will  invite  the  godfather  for  Christmas  Eve,  al- 
though I  can't  endure  him.  I  will,  however,  do  it  on  thy 
account ;  perhaps  he  will  think  of  thee  when  thou  art  grown 
bigger." 

The  table  stood  ready  prepared ;  Christian's  heart  was  full 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  6f 

of  joy  for  the  Christmas  feast.  Marie  brought  her  hymn- 
book. 

"  I  can  sing,"  said  she  to  the  godfather ;  "  you  must  keep 
the  time." 

"  I  can  sing  no  psalms,"  replied  the  godfather.  "  If  we 
must  use  the  hymn-book,  let  us  try  our  fortune  in  it.  There 
is  something  in  it.  What  is  destined  for  us  is  written  in  the 
Great  Book,  as  well  as  in  our  blood  and  in  our  soul." 

Marie  opened  the  book. 

"  Marriage  hymns  !  "  said  she  ;  "  that  was  really  quite  wrong. 
I  shall  never  change  my  condition.  Would  that  I  were  only 
so  fortunate  as  to  see  Christian  strong  and  well,  so  that  he 
could  get  through  the  world  !  " 

"  That  he  will  do,  thanks  to  his  good  star  !  "  remarked  the 
godfather.  "  We  can  certainly  do  something,  but  that  is  the 
least.  Does  it  lie  in  him  that  he  shall  be  a  thief,  or  have  an 
inclination  for  the  girls,  this  instinct  will  not  be  repressed  ;  he 
may  be  brought  up  among  the  most  honest  people,  they  may 
instill  the  best  principles  into  him,  yet,  if  this  evil  is  in  him,  it 
will  break  forth.  We  may  certainly  keep  it  back  somewhat, 
but,  when  he  has  attained  some  years,  it  will  break  forth  all 
the  more  strongly.  The  wild  beast  is  in  all  men  ;  in  one  it  is 
a  ravening  wolf,  in  another  a  crawling  serpent,  which  knows 
how  to  glide  on  its  belly  and  lick  dust.  This  beast  is  born 
within  us ;  the  only  thing  is  whether  we  or  this  wild  beast 
possess  the  most  power,  and  the  power  no  one  possesses  of 
himself." 

"  God  protect  us  from  the  power  of  the  evil  one  !  "  said 
Marie,  and  looked  upon  the  ground. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  the  spirit  whom  she  feared  sat  with  her 
at  table.  What  she  heard  appeared  to  her  like  the  form  of  the 
water-fairy ;  at  first,  truth  in  its  perfect  brightness,  then  hollow 
emptiness,  as  a  token  of  the  world  to  which  it  belonged. 

"  I  have  read  many  writings,"  pursued  the  godfather,  "  have 
read  of  foreign  nations.  There  are  many  nations  on  the  earth. 
What  we  call  sin,  others  consider  right.  The  savage  devours 
his  enemy,  and  his  priest  says  to  him,  '  Man,  thou  wilt  sit  high 
in  heaven.'  The  Turk  has  many  wives,  and  his  bible  promises 
him  yet  more  in  Paradise.  A  general  wins  fame  and  orderi 


58  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

by  the  very  same  injustice,  employed  in  a  royal  war,  that  \;ould 
bring  another  man  equally  crafty  to  the  scaffold.  All  depends 
upon  custom  and  use,  and  who  can  assure  us  that  we  act  the 
best  when  we  are  acting  as  the  majority  do  ?  Who  knows 
whether  the  beast  within  us  has  not  a  greater  right  than  the 
man  who  follows  his  school  rules  ? " 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  sighed  Marie  ;  "  but  it  is  not  well  to  think  of 
such  things.  With  terror  she  laid  aside  the  hymn-book,  spread 
out  the  supper,  and  commenced  another  discourse.  "  If  my 
little  Christian  could  only  be  well  again  !  I  know  a  remedy  ; 
many  people  have  counseled  me  to  try  it,  but  it  is  too  fright- 
ful :  I  mean,  letting  him  drink  warm  blood." 

"  Be  silent !  "  cried  the  godfather ;  "  I  am  so  constituted 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  see  a  fowl's  neck  cut  off.  I  know  an 
innocent  means  :  it  is  a  sympathetic  remedy,  as  people  are  ac- 
customed to  say,  which  must  be  tried  precisely  upon  such  a 
holy  evening  as  this :  I  speak  some  mysterious  words,  and  the 
lad  drinks  ice-cold  water  out  of  the  hollow  of  my  hand." 

"  Lord  Jesus  !  "  broke  forth  Marie,  at  the  same  time  pushing 
back  her  chair.  "  Have  you  been  in  the  wars  ?  Have  you 
slain  a  man  ? " 

A  tawny  yellow  overspread  the  Norwegian's  countenance. 
"What  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  he,  with  a  squinting  glance. 

"  Ah,  dear  God  !  I  say  nothing,"  answered  Marie.  "  There 
are  certainly  many  remedies  which  God  or  some  one  else  can 
give  us.  But  you  said  something  then  which  reminded  me  of 
the  sailor.  He  was  a  Swede,  who  lay  against  the  bridge  last 
summer.  I  spoke  with  him  about  Christian's  illness,  and 
asked  him  what  he  thought  might  be  done  for  it.  I  asked 
him  whether  one  should  not  beg  a  pot  and  collect  the  blood 
of  a  malefactor  at  the  place  of  execution,  and  then  give  it 
the  boy  to  drink  ?  He  told  me  that  in  Schonen  they  had  the 
same  belief,  but,  if  the  child  were  to  be  cured,  it  would  suffice 
for  him  to  drink  cold  water  from  the  hand  of  any  man  who 
had  shed  human  blood,  for  that  was  equally  effective.  I 
should  therefore  only  take  Christian  to  a  soldier  who  had  been 
in  the  wars,  or  to  the  executioner.  These  words,  and  what 
you  have  just  said  "  — 

"  Agree,"  said  the  godfather.     "  Yes,  that  is  not  false  !  Yea, 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  69 

but  what  should  you  think  if  I  were  to  give  you  a  handful  of 
flower-seeds,  and  you  were  to  let  the  seeds  lie  until  they  were 
all  dried  up  and  had  lost  all  their  virtue,  would  not  that  be  as 
much  as  if  you  had  destroyed  a  whole  plot  of  flowers  ?  There 
is  in  Norway  the  story  of  a  girl  who  had  a  horror  of  becoming 
a  mother,  and  therefore,  the  evening  before  her  marriage,  went 
to  the  water-mill  where  the  witch  dwelt,  to  ask  for  some  rem- 
edy which  should  prevent  this.  The  witch  gave  her  twelve 
seeds,  which  she  was  to  fling  into  the  mil! -pool.  This  she  did 
without  thinking  anything  more  about  it;  but  at  each  seed 
which  she  flung  into  the  water  there  was  heard  a  slight  sigh  : 
it  was  a  child's  heart  which  broke  each  time.  She  became  a 
wife,  but  remained  childless  ;  in  old  age  remorse  seized  her. 
Her  hand  was  unstained  with  blood,  and  yet  she  was  a  mur- 
deress, and  endured  agony  of  mind  as  an  infanticide.  One 
night  as  she  went  into  the  church  to  pray  for  the  removal  of 
her  guilt  she  saw  her  twelve  unborn  sons  standing  before  the 
altar,  and  their  whole  race,  all  their  descendants,  the  number 
of  which  was  so  immense  that  they  filled  all  the  aisles  of  the 
church.  And  she  knelt  down  and  prayed  ;  she,  the  murder- 
ess of  a  whole  race  !  *  And  you,  Marie,  do  you  understand 
the  meaning  of  this  history  ?  Thus  is  many  a  mother  the 
murderess  of  a  whole  human  race.  Such  a  murderer  am  I ! 
such  a  murderer  shall  I  be  !  for  I  cherish  within  me  a  horror 
of  becoming  the  husband  of  any  woman.  Therefore  let  the 
boy  drink  out  of  my  hand,  for,  if  no  blood  is  to  be  found  upon 
it,  blood  in  reality  cleaves  to  it !  "  He  held  his  breath,  other- 
wise a  low  sigh  which  rose  from  his  breast  would  have  be- 
come loud. 

"Certainly  you  are  ill,"  said  Marie,  gazing  at  him  anx- 
iously. 

1  The  conclusion  of  the  legend  is  as  follows :  The  clergyiimu  broke 
forth  in  anger  against  the  woman's  sin.  "  I  will  not  grant  thee  absolution, 
and  God  the  Lord  will  be  equally  unforgiving.  Sooner  shall  roses  spring 
up  out  of  the  flagstones  than  I  forgive  thee  !  "  The  night  that  she  had  this 
yision  in  the  church,  the  clergyman  dreamed  the  same  thing  as  the  old 
woman,  and  when  he  awoke  the  flag-stones  had  split,  and  twelve  odorous 
roses  grew  out  of  the  apertures  ;  these  were  the  twelve  sons  of  the  childless 
wife.  "  Now  is  our  mother  happy  '  "  said  the  clergyman,  and  sought  fo» 
her  in  'he  church,  where  she  lay  dead  before  the  altar  —  Author's  Nott, 


;o 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 


"  Never  more  will  I  invite  thy  godfather,"  said  she  to  her 
little  son,  when  the  Norwegian  had  left  them  ;  "  I  felt  just  as 
though  an  evil  spirit  had  been  with  me  in  the  room.  Fold 
thy  hands,  Christian,  and  pray  thy  evening  prayer.  I  will 
teach  thee  some  more  prayers,  which  I  still  remember,  when 
we  are  alone  at  work  together." 

The  new  year  had  many  ice-cold,  gloomy  days  ;  often  the 
windows  were  obliged  to  be  thawed  by  means  of  the  foot- 
stove. 

"  Now  the  high-roads  are  like  a  floor ;  the  frost  has  done 
good,"  said  the  farmer  from  Orebak,  as  he  one  day  visited 
Marie.  "  You  must  amuse  yourself  a  little  !  Pay  me  a  visit, 
and  bring  your  boy  with  you.  I  will  expect  you  by  the  car- 
rier's cart." 

"  I  would  willingly  grant  Christian  the  pleasure,"  said  she. 
On  his  account  it  would  be,  should  she  ever  commit  the  folly 
of  marrying  again.  And  yet,  the  grass  of  the  new  year  had 
scarcely  begun  to  spring  before  she  already  wavered  between 
the  yes  and  the  no. 

"  On  thy  account  it  shall  be,  my  dear  son  !  "  said  she. 
Christian  wept ;  the  new  father  was  not  at  all  friendly  and 
merry.  He  scolded  at  his  playing  on  the  violin,  and  called  it 
wearisome  fiddling. 

"  Marie,  thou  knowest  that  my  thoughts  have  ever  turned 
toward  thee !  However,  thou  didst  take  another,  and  I  did 
the  same.  Now  are  we  both  free  again :  I  must  have  a  wife 
for  my  housekeeping,  and  a  mother  for  my  lad.  True,  there 
sits  the  bird-catcher's  Anne,  —  that  is  a  pretty  girl.  She  has 
two  children ;  for  each  she  receives  ten  dollars  for  ten  years. 
That  is  really  a  capital  which  might  make  one  wish  for  her  ! 
Thou  hast  no  fortune ;  and  thou  hast  the  lad  also !  But  I 
like  thee  ;  and  if  thou  art  as  agreeable  as  I  am,  the  pastor 
shall  publish  our  bans  next  Sunday  from  the  pulpit" 

Marie  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  On  thy  account  it  happens,  my  child  !  "  repeated  she  ;  and 
the  green  meadows,  the  farm,  and  the  cattle,  danced  before 
her  soul,  —  before  her  soul,  which  had  remained  a  whole  year 
faithful  in  memory  to  a  husband  who  valued  foreign  countries 
nore  than  wife,  child,  or  home- 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  >J\ 

The  more  violently  thy  tears  flow,  the  sooner  will  the  spring 
Df  tears  be  exhausted.  The  widow's  hood  becomes  the  bridal 
veil;  therefore  the  garland  smiles  on  the  bride's  brow  as 
well  as  upon  the  cold  forehead  of  the  dead.  Yes,  even  in  the 
coffin  it  smiles,  and  tells  the  dead,  with  its  gay  colors,  how 
soon  the  mourning  over  him  and  he  himself  will  be  forgotten,  — 
forgotten  like  the  history  which  is  read  with  tears.  This  the 
laughing  flowers  relate  to  the  dead  corpse,  until  they  them- 
selves fade  and  fall  to  dust ;  and  then  the  skeleton  grins 
over  the  talkative  flowers,  because  they  are  now  become  silent 

"  So,  then,  there  is  an  end  to  our  playing !  "  said  the  god- 
father. "  I  thought  it  would  be  otherwise ;  but  what  can  man 
think  ?  Now,  thou  shalt  put  thy  hand  to  the  plough,  but  no 
longer  to  the  fiddle.  Thou  shalt  wander  a  new  way,  or  a  by- 
way :  one  does  not  know  which,  beforehand.  The  old  fiddle 
I  have  given  thee ;  and  the  little  music-book,  with  the  dances, 
thou  mayest  keep.  '  Reinecke  Fuchs,'  the  beautiful  book  with 
the  pictures,  which  thou  lovest  so  much,  thou  must  also  take 
with  thee.  Only  keep  it !  I  think  much  of  thee,  and  thou  of 
me  ;  is  not  that  true  ?  Do  not  cry,  thou  little  soul !  Kiss  me  1 
Yes,  once  again.  Lay  thy  arm  round  my  neck.  Dost  thou 
think  thou  canst  always  remember  this  which  I  now  say  to 
thee  ?  Be  gay  and  wild  in  thy  youth,  so  that  thou  mayest  be- 
come satisfied  when  thou  growest  older.  The  sins  of  youth 
men  pardon  ;  the  man,  however,  they  judge  more  severely. 
Seize  on  the  joys  of  life  whilst  thou  canst,  so  that  when  thou 
art  an  old  man  thou  mayest  not  weep  because  thou  hast  no 
sins  ;  for  they  belong  to  life,  as  salt  does  to  meat.  Better  is  it 
to  have  enjoyed  life  too  much,  than  later  to  sigh  because  one 
has  not  enjoyed  it  as  one  could.  Write  that  in  thy  wandering- 
book  !  God,  or  the  devil,  in  whose  soever  regiment  thou  mayest 
enter  thyself,  be  a  good  master  to  thee ! " 

He  give  Christian  the  violin  and  the  books. 

That  was  his  last  visit  in  the  Hollow  Lane. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Gone  are  these  dreams." 

SCHILLER'S  Don  Cat  lot. 

THE  day  before  the  wedding  is  a  real  torture  for  the 
peasant  bride  :  she  must  be  dressed  —  that  is  for  the 
first,  and,  perhaps,  for  the  last  time  in  her  life,  appears  with 
uncovered  hair.  Her  hair  is  washed  with  ley,  by  which  means 
it  becomes  stiff  and  rough,  and  is,  therefore,  all  the  more 
difficult  to  arrange.  The  bride  usually  faints  during  the 
operation.  But  this  did  not  happen  to  Marie.  "Her  hair 
was  like  silk ! "  said  one  of  the  attendants,  with  whom  we  will 
witness  the  procession  to  the  church.  That  she,  as  a  widow, 
wished  to  be  adorned  with  her  beautiful  hair,  and  not  with 
her  cap,  was  an  evidence  of  pride,  said  certain  people.  All 
the  connections  of  the  bridegroom  had  much  to  say  against 
this  union  ;  for  Marie  brought  nothing  into  the  house  but  a 
tall  lad. 

The  triumphal  arch  was  erected  on  the  road  to  the  church, 
the  gateways  which  the  bridal  pair  had  to  pass  through  were 
adorned  with  green  boughs ;  and  the  brideman  galloped 
backward  and  forward  before  the  bridal  pair.  First  came 
the  bride,  with  her  bride-maidens,  who  held  their  bouquets  out 
of  the  wagon  like  marshals'  staves ;  bells  and  little  mirrors 
glittered  among  the  flowers  ;  no  one  had  ever  seen  more 
splendid  ones.  Trumpets  and  clarionets  resounded  into  the 
very  church,  and  overpowered  the  organ.  The  bride -maidens 
took  much  honor  to  themselves,  —  so  beautifully  they  had  dec- 
orated the  church!  Everywhere  hung  green  garlands,  and 
"  what  glitters,"  as  the  peasant  says.  The  king  on  horseback, 
in  a  paltry  print ;  a  gay  recipe  with  the  mixture-phial,  on  which 
might  still  be  read,  "  Juniper-drops  for  six  shillings  ; "  an  old 
red  silk  muff,  and  many  other  valuable  things,  were  suspended 
among  the  wreaths  and  green  branches.  Every  peasant's 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER]  73 

wedding  in  Denmark,  if  intended  to  be  particularly  splendid, 
shows  us  this  childish  love  of  ornaments. 

Among  the  female  guests  who  sat  in  the  foremost  seats  we 
recognize  two  :  the  mother  and  grandmother  of  the  crazy  girl, 
whom  we  saw  at  the  spring.  Lucie  was  also  come  with  them. 
In  her  blue  speaking  eyes  you  no  longer  saw  anything  wild  ; 
pious  and  still  sat  she,  near  the  other  female  wedding-guests. 
Like  the  storm  of  that  night  had  the  struggle  of  her  soul  laid 
itself  to  rest.  Christian,  who  had  his  place  among  the  men, 
immediately  knew  her  again  ;  she,  on  the  contrary,  looked  at 
him  with  the  glance  of  a  stranger,  and  with  a  clear  voice  sang 
the  holy  song  of  praise. 

Now  stepped  the  bridal  pair  before  the  altar.  The  attend- 
ants placed  themselves  in  the  choir.  The  two  women  spoke 
in  a  low  voice  to  each  other. 

"  Give  heed  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom  !  The  one  who 
makes  the  first  movement  will  die  the  first." 

"  Ah,  that  she  has  done  !  " 

"  But  that  does  not  agree  with  the  other,"  said  the  younger 
woman.  "  I  have  more  faith  in  that !  —  that  never  comes 
wrong.  One  can  tell  by  the  names  of  the  bridal  pair  who  will 
die  first.  One  counts  the  letters  of  the  two  names  together, 
and  then  says :  Adam  dies  !  Eve  dies  !  which  is  as  much  as 
saying,  He  dies !  She  dies !  and  where  one  ends  there  is 
death.  But  that  also  comes  to  her !  She  is  called  Marie,  and 
that  has  five  letters  when  it  is  not  written  with  two  r's  ;  and 
he  is  called  Peter,  and  that  has  also  five  letters,  and  that 
makes  ten  together,  which  is  an  equal  number ;  and  when 
there  is  an  equal  number,  Eve  dies." 

"  Yes,  but  he  is  called  Peer,  and  not  Peter ! "  said  the 
young  woman. 

"  But  how  was  he  christened  ? "  asked  the  other.  "  If  he 
is  called  Peer,  he  will  die  first ;  but  if  he  is  called  Peter,  she 
will  die  before  him,  and  that  agrees  with  the  movement  she 
made." 

They  were  here  interrupted.  There  arose  a  little  dispute 
m  their  neighborhood,  which,  quietly  as  it  terminated,  never- 
theless interrupted  their  devotion.  The  bridegroom's  son, 
Wiels,  a  boy  of  twelve  years  old,  with  a  flat,  malicious  counte 


74  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  t 

nance,  pushed  his  half-brother,  Christian,  somewhat  roughly 
aside,  so  as  to  press  himself  forward — an  action  which  Chris- 
tian resented  by  a  somewhat  indignant  motion.  The  women 
signified  to  them  by  signs  that  they  must  be  quiet ;  and  Chris- 
tian cast  down  his  eyes,  and  gazed  in  an  embarrassed  manner 
upon  his  white  stockings.  But  Niels,  at  the  same  moment,  set 
his  dirty  shoe  upon  Christian's  snow-white  stocking,  so  that 
tears  came  into  the  poor  lad's  eyes.  Lucie  cast  a  reproachful 
look  on  Niels. 

The  marriage  was  concluded.  Like  the  trumpets  of  the 
Last  Day  resounded  the  trumpets  at  the  church  door.  The 
bridegroom  now  drove  away  in  all  haste,  so  as  to  receive  his 
wife  in  the  bridal  house.  The  musicians  stood  on  the  thresh- 
old. The  new-married  pair  had  already  arrived,  and  each 
guest  laid  upon  the  pewter  plate,  which  stood  before  the 
pair,  his  bridal  present,  when  it  was  also  not  forgotten  to 
distribute  tickets ;  for  the  peasant  makes  a  similar  gift  when 
the  donor,  or  any  member  of  his  family,  afterward  celebrates 
a  marriage.  The  meal  was  served,  and  devoured  ;  the  song 
sang ;  and  the  stewards  danced  the  bride  into  the  bridegroom's 
arms. 

Lucie,  who  was  something  older  than  Christian,  devoted  her- 
self alone  to  him.  They  danced  and  walked  together.  She 
was  called  the  school-master's  pretty  daughter. 

During  the  after-festivities  they  two  sat  in  the  garden,  where 
the  bouquet-pinks  bloomed,  and  she  told  him  about  her  great- 
uncle  Peter  Vieck,  whom  she  was  wont  to  call  her  mother's 
brother,  and  who  had  that  beautiful  vessel  called  Lucie,  like 
herself,  which  sailed  to  Germany  and  Copenhagen.  O,  this 
mother's  brother  was  so  good,  and  full  of  fun !  Once  every 
summer,  when  his  vessel  lay  off  Svendborg,  he  visited  her. 
He  had  made  her  a  present  of  the  "  Gentle  Helene,"  which, 
as  the  title  ran,  was  "  amusing,"  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
"sorrowful"  to  read.  Christian  then  brought  his  book  of 
"  Reinecke  Fuchs,"  which  his  godfather  had  given  him,  and 
they  looked  at  the  numerous  wood-cuts.  Lucie  read  what  was 
written  over  them,  and  she  could  very  well  understand  how 
the  fox  made  sport  of  the  bear  and  the  other  beasts. 

Whilst  they  were  sitting  thus  comfortably  together,  Nieli 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  75 

came.  He  glided  quietly  behind  them,  and  suddenly,  with 
his  foot,  kicked  the  book  out  of  their  hands,  so  that  it  flew 
far  amidst  the  gooseberry  bushes.  Christian  began  to  cry ; 
but  Lucie  scolded,  and  said  that  Niels  was  like  the  fox  in  the 
book,  a  wicked  beast. 

The  lad  stared  at  her  with  his  unmeaning  eyes.  "  Crazy 
Lucie  !  "  was  his  only  reply. 

At  this  the  girl's  rosy  cheeks  grew  pale,  the  boy  had  caused 
her  bitter  pain  by  these  words ;  he  had  touched  upon  the  un- 
happy derangement  of  her  mind  from  which  she  had  formerly 
suffered,  but  of  which  she  was  now  cured.  She  looked  at  him 
with  an  expression  of  sorrow  and  then  returned  to  the  bridal 
house,  where  all  was  merriment  and  perfect  joy. 

On  the  third  day  of  festivity,  one  saw  Christian  and  Lu- 
cie dancing  together ;  Niels  stood  with  them  in  the  chain. 
The  sun  does  not  set  upon  the  anger  of  children.  The  stew- 
ards now  dismissed  the  company  with  the  customary  chorus 
of,  "  Here  is,  to-morrow,  an  end  of  joy." 

For  Christian  there  lay  in  these  words  a  prophetic  truth. 
During  the  first  few  weeks,  it  is  true,  the  new  home,  the  gar- 
den, and  the  fields,  afforded  him  some  change  and  pleasure, 
but  in  the  home  it  was  not  as  comfortable  as  in  Svendborg. 
His  step-father  did  not  like  to  hear  the  fiddle,  on  which  ac- 
count Marie  hung  it  up  high  above  the  door,  where  it  was  not 
so  easy  to  get  it  down.  Niels  looked  down  upon  the  town 
boy,  who  was  afraid  of  the  cattle,  mistook  a  cow  for  an  ox,  and 
scarcely  dared  to  ride  the  quiet  mare  to  water.  Scornfully  he 
related  all  this  to  his  father  and  the  men,  and  their  laughter 
wounded  poor  Christian.  The  only  point  on  which  the  boys 
were  at  all  unanimous  was  their  love  for  the  picture-book. 
The  animals  interested  Niels,  but  he  considered  it  a  great 
mistake  that  they  were  only  black  and  white.  It  was  there- 
fere,  out  of  no  spite,  but  rather  a  well-intentioned  thought  of 
his,  which  prompted  him,  when  Christian  was  away,  to  take 
the  book,  and,  in  the  conviction  that  he  was  doing  something 
very  admirable,  paint  all  the  wood-cuts  with  the  brightest  yel- 
low and  red  colors.  He  was  also  considered  by  his  father 
and  the  men  as  a  good  hand  at  drawing.  Upon  all  the  doors 
and  gates  were  his  figures  of  men  and  animals  ;  but  what  gave 


76  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

his  father  a  relish  for  these  sketches  was  the  coarse  spirit,  the 
vulgarity  which  lay  in  them  all.  He  gave,  by  a  few  strokes 
and  additions,  the  same  character  to  the  wood-cuts ;  he  then 
laughed,  quite  self-satisfied  at  his  inventive  talent. 

"  Wilt  thou  look  ?  "  said  he  to  Christian,  when  he  entered  ; 
"  one  can  now  laugh  properly !  " 

"  Thou  hast  spoilt  me  the  whole  book  !  "  said  Christian ; 
and  his  vexation  and  his  anger  about  it  were  so  violent  that 
he  broke  forth  into  a  passion,  which  was  not  natural  to  his 
character.  He  threw  himself  upon  Niels,  but  Niels  in  a 
second  flung  him  to  the  ground. 

"  You  shall  both  be  beaten  ! "  said  Marie.  "  I  will  do 
nothing  to  Niels,  but  thou  art  my  own  lad ;  thee  I  have  a 
right  to  flog ! "  And  now  he  must  suffer  chastisement  for 
Doth. 

The  father  also  found  that  now  the  book  was  much  prettier, 
and  the  vulgar  improvements  of  the  pictures  called  forth  the 
joyful  exclamation  of,  "  The  lad's  devilish  clever  !  " 

Abandoned  to  himself  and  his  own  thoughts,  Christian 
wandered  solitarily  about ;  from  day  to  day  he  became  more 
quiet  and  introverted.  Sometimes  he  was  still  the  object  of 
his  mother's  entire  love,  especially  if  anything  went  contrary 
to  her  wishes,  and  if  the  relations  of  her  husband  spoke  ill  of 
her  because  she  had  brought  nothing  into  the  house.  At 
such  times  the  fiddle  might  make  its  appearance ;  he  then 
played  from  the  notes  in  his  little  book,  which  was  a  real 
treasure  to  him,  —  which  he  would  not  have  given  away  for 
anything  in  the  world.  And  yet  he  must  soon  lose  even 
this  treasure. 

One  day  there  flew  a  splendid  kite  over  the  house.  Niels 
had  made  it  of  old  newspapers  and  the  music-book,  which 
was  of  no  value  in  his  eyes.  The  kite  rose  high  into  the  air, 
the  boys  could  no  longer  hold  it,  its  speed  increased,  and  it 
flew  away  into  the  deep  peat-bog. 

The  winter  came  and  went.  It  was  once  more  summer, 
and  Christian  must  now  do  something  to  earn  his  bread.  In 
the  meadow,  where  the  stream  flowed  on  among  the  alders, 
must  he  and  Niels  alternately  tend  the  geese  :  but  he  liked  to 
be  in  this  solitude.  There,  where  the  stream  formed  a  small 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I 


77 


lake,  would  he  sit  on  the  trunk  of  an  alder-tree,  in  the  shade 
of  the  hazels,  which  mirrored  themselves  in  the  clear  water, 
sunk  in  dreams  and  gazing  at  the  picture  of  the  flying  clouds 
in  the  clear  fountain.  There  below  swam  the  clouds  ;  there 
below  flew  the  bird  with  outspread  wings,  just  as  deep  below 
as  he  flew  high  above  the  watery  mirror.  The  trees  stood  on 
their  heads  and  turned  their  roots  up  into  the  air ;  his  own 
figure  seemed  equally  turned  topsy-turvy  ;  and  he  now  formed 
a  complete  idea  of  how  it  must  be  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world.  The  bubbles  which  rose  up  here  and  there  he  called 
his  water  shooting-stars.  The  smooth  expanse  was  to  him  an 
ocean  ;  the  large  water-insects  which  traversed  it,  corsairs. 
What  voyages  they  did  make  !  In  comparison  with  them  tht 
grass  and  water-plants  appeared  gigantic  like  the  trees  of 
tropical  lands.  The  duck-meat  formed  green,  floating  islands  : 
and  if  a  frog  suddenly  appeared  swimming  over  the  water,  he 
thought  of  some  monster  such  as  he  had  heard  of  in  the 
"Arabian  Nights."  There  where  he  sat  the  water  flowed 
beneath  the  old  tree-stems,  the  roots  of  which  were  partly  laid 
bare.  In  these  openings  it  seemed  to  him  quite  mysterious  j 
no  fishermen  can  form  more  terrible  ideas,  whilst  sailing  past 
the  caves  of  Capri,  than  did  Christian  at  the  sight  of  these 
black  holes  between  the  tree-roots  and  the  turf,  which  hung 
over  the  water  without  touching  it.  If  he  struck  his  stick  in 
the  water,  he  put  the  whole  ocean  in  movement ;  he  saw  the 
ocean's  long  waves,  its  ebb  and  flood,  which  overflowed  and 
extended  the  caves  in  the  coast.  What  he  had  learned  from 
the  relations  of  his  father  and  godfather,  he  thought  other 
peasant-boys  must  also  know ;  and  what  he  saw  in  the  water 
and  the  green  plants,  they  must  also  be  able  to  see :  therefore 
he  spoke  to  them  of  these  things  as  if  they  really  existed. 
But  the  others  understood  nothing  of  all  this  ;  they  listened 
to  him  with  admiration  and  curiosity ;  they  did  not  exactly 
know  v.  hether  he  were  wiser  than  they  or  quite  crazy. 

"  Yes,  he  is  out  of  his  senses  !  "  cried  Niels.  These  words 
were  the  signals  to  tnem  to  view  these  things  in  quite  another 
light.  They  all  fell  upon  Christian.  One  fastened  a  willow- 
branch  behind  to  his  neck-handkerchief ;  others  threw  at  him 


78  ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I 

with  burs;  and  Niels  whistled  and  cried,  "Hurrah!  here  i» 
crazy  Christian ! " 

Despair  seized  him  ;  and,  like  a  frightened  roe,  he  flew  in 
wild  career  over  the  field.  All  the  boys,  screaming,  followed 
behind,  and  threw  at  him  with  their  caps  and  wooden  shoes. 
He  reached  the  garden  and  crept  quickly  over  the  wall,  fol- 
lowed by  the  wicked  boys.  He  cried  out  aloud.  Marie  stood 
in  the  garden ;  he  flew  to  her.  Niels  and  the  other  boys 
stood  already  on  the  garden-wall. 

"  What  is  up  now  ? "  said  Marie.  "  Canst  thou  not  play  in 
peace  with  them  ?  Wilt  thou  be  quiet  directly  ? " 

She  went  in.  His  companions  laughed  at  him,  and  he  must 
swallow  their  scorn. 

One  day  he  again  sat  alone  in  the  field,  and  out  of  all  kinds 
of  leaves  and  flowers  formed  the  figures  of  men,  which  he  then 
reared  up  against  the  tree-stem,  and  amused  himself  with  his 
gay  company. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  absorbed  in  his  play,  the  wise  woman 
from  Quarndrup  —  she,  his  seeress  and  female  physician  — 
came  to  seek  herbs  and  roots,  and  looked  at  his  dolls. 

"  Ah !  what  hast  thou  made  there  ? "  said  she  to  him.  "  Those 
are  human  forms  !  But  thou  hast  not  been  able  to  give  them 
a  soul.  What  wilt  thou  say  in  thy  justification  at  the  day  of 
judgment,  when  they  shall  accuse  thee  of  merely  having  given 
them  a  body  ? "  She  shook  her  head  and  left  him  ;  but  her 
words,  "  They  will  demand  a  soul  from  thee,"  had  sunk  deep 
into  his  imagination. 

The  longer  he  looked  at  his  dolls  the  more  uneasy  he  be- 
came ;  to  tear  them  in  two,  he  did  not  dare.  He  broke  loose 
a  piece  of  turf,  made  a  hole  in  the  earth,  laid  his  dolls  in  it,  and 
covered  them  over  with  the  turf.  Now  they  were  buried  ;  but 
he  dreamed  the  whole  night  of  them,  and  it  seemed  that  the 
little  flower-men  stepped  before  his  bed,  hopped  up  unto  him, 
and  said,  "  Thou  must  give  us  a  soul ! "  His  dream  seemed  to 
him  a  real  event,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  speak  of  it.  The  next 
day  he  again  went  to  the  place  where  he  had  buried  his  dolls, 
and  raised  the  sod.  The  flowers  were  now  all  faded,  and  had 
shrunk  together.  He  took  them  up,  spread  them  out,  and 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER t  Jg 

then  laid  them,  as  well  as  he  could,  on  a  wild  cabbage-leaf.  He 
carried  them  down  to  the  brook,  prayed  the  Lord's  Prayer  at 
the  bier  of  his  creations,  and  placed  the  leaf  in  the  water, 
where  the  green  death-ship  flowed  on  with  them.  Now  the 
forms  could  not  again  return  and  terrify  him ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Alrik.  —  "  Thou  art  here  :  what  a  pleasure ! 

Edmund.  —  Tell  me  of  a  sea  great  enough  to  wash  away  that  guilt  which 
oppresses  me."  —  The  Rune-sword,  NICANDER. 

OFTEN  does  a  noble  and  gifted  soul  become  an  object  for 
scorn  and  neglect,  because  its  peculiarity  and  prepon- 
derating excellence  is  unacknowledged  by  surrounding  persons. 
The  ass  treads  down  the  most  beautiful  flower ;  man  the  most 
faithful  brother's  heart. 

Thou  who  dost  glance  thy  eye  over  these  pages,  hast  thou 
ever  felt  thyself  thoroughly  forlorn  ?  Dost  thou  know  what  it 
is  to  call  no  friend  thy  own  ? .  to  know  no  heart  upon  which 
thou  canst  lean  ?  to  have  no  friend,  no  brother  ?  to  stand  soli- 
tary in  the  midst  of  a  whole  nation  ?  If  so,  thou  knowest  the 
germ  which  shot  forth  in  Christian's  heart,  knowest  how  the 
bitter  odor  makes  older  and  ripens  the  understanding,  whilst 
it  bloodily  engraves  the  runic  character  of  its  wisdom  in  our 
hearts. 

In  the  violin  dwelt  the  only  consolation  of  his  childish  imagi- 
nation ;  but  the  violin  made  him  a  dreamer,  said  the  step-father, 
and  therefore  it  was  sold  for  a  few  shillings  to  a  Jewish  peddler. 

"  Now  we  are  freed  of  this  annoyance  ! "  said  Marie. 

Silently  the  boy  stole  up  to  the  loft,  laid  himself  down  among 
the  hay,  and  wept  until  Sleep  gave  him  her  consoling  kiss ;  and 
he  dreamed  of  former  days  when  his  father  related  of  splendid 
countries  abroad,  and  the  godfather  said  the  fiddle  should  be  a 
rose  in  his  hand  and  make  his  fortune. 

The  reality  was  a  denial  of  this  and  all  successive  dreams. 
The  autumn  approached ;  it  became  uncomfortable  in  the  open 
•lir  as  well  as  in  the  house. 

"  It  is  wretched  with  the  lad ! "  said  Marie.  "  That  he  inner 
its  from  his  father ;  but  no  one  shall  say  that  I  coddle  him." 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  8 1 

And  to  act  the  good  step-mother,  she  was  unfriendly  toward 
her  own  child. 

"  Is  it  not  horrible ! "  said  the  husband,  one  day  on  his  return 
from  Svendborg.  "  The  Norwegian  in  Hollow  Lane,  the  same 
who  used  to  visit  thy  first  husband,  is  in  prison.  He  has  con- 
fessed to  a  horrible  crime.  Many  years  ago,  he,  in  Norway, 
killed  a  girl ;  and  in  Svendborg  he  sent  into  the  other  world 
the  Jew's  daughter,  Sara,  the  mother  of  little  Naomi,  who  has 
risen  to  such  honor." 

"  God  have  mercy !  "  exclaimed  Marie. 

"  Yes,  there  he  sits,  confined  by  wood  and  iron  !  It  is 
quite  singular  how  all  this  came  out  He  fell  dangerously 
sick.  The  doctor  said  he  would  die ;  and  he  believed  so  also 
himself,  and  wished  to  ease  his  conscience  by  confessing  his 
sins.  But,  from  that  moment,  a  remarkable  change  took 
place  in  him ;  his  health  returned  again,  and  he  removed  from 
the  sick-bed  to  the  prison.  Pardoned  he  will  not  be.  It  is  as 
good  as  two  murders  which  he  has  committed  ;  and  he  was  a 
smuggler  also  ;  that  was  the  reason  he  so  often  went  to  Thor- 
seng." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  sighed  Marie.  "  One  could  see  that  an  evil 
spirit  dwelt  within  him.  I  still  shudder  at  his  words  of  last 
Christmas  Eve.  His  fiddle  sounded  like  Cain's  voice.  It  was 
fearful  to  hear  it."  She  could  not  forget  the  news,  she  trem- 
bled all  over. 

The  evening  table  was  spread.  Niels  came ;  Christian  was 
not  to  be  found.  The  meal  waited ;  he  was  sought  for,  but 
he  was  not  to  be  found.  It  was  already  after  ten  o'clock. 

"  He  will  come  when  he  feels  hunger ! "  said  the  father. 

"  I  am  his  mother ! "  answered  Marie.  "  I  know  best  how 
near  he  is  to  my  heart.  I  must  find  him,  but  I  will  teach  him 
to  leave  off  such  tricks  !  " 

He  was  not  found. 

Soon  after  mid-day  he  had  been  sitting  at  his  favorite  place 
beside  the  spring.  The  falling  leaves  whirled  over  the  mead- 
ow, the  sunbeams  were  weak  and  cold.  Therefore  he  was 
surprised  when  he  saw  a  stork,  a  straggler,  standing  close 
beside  him.  Perhaps  this  had  been  a  prisoner  when  his 
people  had  departed,  haJ  afterward  escaped,  and  now  was  a 
6 


82  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

solitary  pilgrim  through  the  steppes  of  heaven  toward  the  fat 
south. 

He  hopped  around  Christian,  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  fear- 
ful, and  looked  at  the  boy  with  his  sage  eyes.  Then  thought 
the  boy  of  the  pair  of  storks  which  had  built  their  nest  on  the 
Jew's  house  ;  this  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  father-stork,  and 
all  the  beloved  memories  of  his  youth  pressed  upon  him.  He 
recollected  so  perfectly  everything  his  father  had  related  of 
the  strange  birds  ;  he  went  nearer,  but  the  stork  flew  a  few 
steps  further.  "  If  one  could  only  sit  under  the  stork's  wings 
and  fly  into  foreign  lands  ! "  had  his  father  so  often  said  ;  and 
yet  never  before  had  this  yearning  arisen  so  violently  in  the 
little  one's  breast  as  at  this  moment.  "  Could  I  only  go  to 
Svendborg  to  my  godfather !  "  thought  he,  and  wandered 
dreaming  farther  over  fields  and  meadows.  Then  arose  the 
stork  in  a  proud  flight,  and  winged  his  way  over  the  wood, 
and  Christian  walked  with  a  joyful  and  light  heart  —  the  first 
time  for  many  a  long  day  —  on  the  high-road  which  led  to 
Svendborg. 

Only  when  darkness  came  on  and  he  felt  hunger  did  his 
thoughts  return  to  home  ;  and  he  was  terrified  at  being  so  far 
from  home  and  at  having  left  the  geese.  It  would  be  very 
late  before  he  again  reached  his  parents'  home,  and  what,  in- 
deed, would  they  say  to  him  ?  He  was  silent ;  "  The  stork 
was  to  blame  for  all,"  said  he,  and  began  to  weep :  for  they 
would  beat  him  did  he  return  home !  "  Thou,  good  Jesus,  be 
my  friend  !  "  prayed  he  with  a  pious  mind,  and  wandeied  far- 
ther. 

It  became  ever  darker  and  darker ;  at  length  he  could  no 
longer  see  his  hand  before  his  eyes.  Then  crept  he  to  the 
wall,  laid  his  head  against  a  willow-tree,  prayed  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  and  gave  himself  up  to  fate. 

It  could  scarely  be  more  than  nine  o'clock  ;  and  whilst  he 
sat  there  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  there  shone  a  light  in 
the  distance  between  the  trees  ;  he  heard  music  — •  pleasantly 
fell  the  tones  upon  his  ear  ;  he  listened  with  a  devotion,  as  a 
glorified  spirit  will  listen  to  the  harmonies  of  heaven.  Now 
the  tones  seemed  to  come  from  the  tree-top,  now  from  the 
clouds.  Was  it  perhaps  true  which  the  legend  tells,  that 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  83 

swans  sing,  but  from  such  a  high  distance  that  man  upon  the 
earth  cannot  hear  them  ?  But  here  a  human  ear  received  the 
tones !  The  clouds  shone  brighter ;  all  became  clear.  He 
glanced  toward  the  increasing  light,  and  now  saw  the  moon, 
which  with  her  pale  light  called  forth  bushes  and  single  trees 
from  the  darkness. 

He  found  himself  near  the  mansion  of  Glorup,  and  sat 
upon  the  inclosure  of  the  old-fashioned  garden.  From  the 
mansion  resounded  the  music  which  he  had  heard;  from 
thence  streamed  the  lights  over  to  him.  Irresistibly  was  he 
attracted  by  his  discovery ;  he  let  himself  slide  down,  and 
now  stood  in  the  garden. 

Large  trees  with  thickly  grown  together  boughs  formed  an 
avenue  ;  a  female  figure  of  white  marble  stood  chained  to  a 
rock.  What  he  had  heard  in  the  "  Arabian  Nights  "  of  en- 
chanted gardens  and  castles  seemed  here  to  be  realized.  Per- 
haps here  should  he  receive  assistance  and  fortune.  He  said 
his  evening  prayers,  and  then,  full  of  confidence,  approached 
the  statue  of  Andromeda.  That  was  certainly  a  beautiful 
princess  who  had  been  turned  to  stone.  He  touched  her  foot, 
it  was  cold  as  ice.  She  gazed  down  upon  him  with  a  melan- 
choly glance. 

In  the  long  avenue  it  was  still  deep  night ;  but  on  either 
side  the  illumination  stood  out  sharply.  At  regular  distances 
stood  here  stone  pillars  with  large  balls.  These  seemed  to 
him  dwarfs  which  guarded  the  way.  A  similar  avenue 
stretched  itself  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  between  the  two 
lay  a  lake  with  precipitate  shores,  and  in  it  an  island.  From 
the  principal  building  streamed  lights  in  gay  brightness 
through  the  silken  curtains,  and  from  thence  sounded  the  en- 
chanting melody.  Was  it,  then,  as  if  there  were  no  end  to 
the  avenue  ?  In  it  lay  also  enchantment  doubtless  ! 

At  length  he  stood  before  the  entrance,  and  in  the  moon- 
light saw  the  colossal  eagles  which  bear  the  escutcheon  of  the 
noble  family,  and  they  seemed  to  him  rocs  of  the  "  Arabian 
Tales ; "  he  feared  lest  they  should  raise  their  huge  wings, 
and  fly  down  and  peck  his  eyes  out ;  but  they  did  not  move. 
Then  he  became  more  courageous,  ascended  the  steps,  saw  the 
mighty  stars  of  light,  which,  as  of  glittering  glass,  hung  down 


84  ONLY  A   FIDDLE R! 

from  the  ceiling ;  the  beautiful  women,  light  as  soap-bubbles, 
float  over  the  floor,  and  grandly  dressed  gentlemen.  He  did 
not  venture  to  enter  the  enchanted  castle  ;  only  the  soft  tones 
might  he  drink  in,  and  these  were  a  life-balm  to  his  pining 
heart 

Upon  the  steps  lay  a  woolen  rug  for  the  dogs  of  this  noble 
family,  so  that  they  might  not  lie  upon  the  cold  stones  ;  he 
wrapped  himself  up  in  it,  his  head  sunk,  and  he  fell  asleep. 
The  wind  strewed  yellow  leaves  over  die  sleeper ;  sleep  had 
chained  him  to  the  earth  of  which  he  was  a  part.  His  lips 
moved  slowly  in  his  dream.  Child  of  poverty  upon  the  cold 
steps,  in  the  dark  night,  art  thou  more  than  that  masterpiece 
of  marble  ?  An  immortal  soul  lies  in  thy  breast ! 

The  music  ceased,  the  lights  were  extinguished,  it  was  quiet 
in  the  whole  large  house,  but  quicker  streamed  the  tones  and 
the  brightness  of  the  lights  in  the  soul  of  the  sleeper.  He 
found  himself  in  the  splendid  hall,  which  was  filled  with  awful 
beauty.  The  walls  were  summer-clouds,  the  portal  a  bright, 
glittering  rainbow,  and  the  eagles  had  received  life,  —  they 
shook  their  black  plumage  until  stars  fell  from  their  huge 
pinions.  The  music  resounded  and  the  dancers  floated  like 
feathers  in  the  air.  When  he  looked  forth  from  the  portal  into 
the  garden  he  saw  the  beautiful  blue  mountains  of  which  his 
father  had  related,  and  from  these  descended,  hand-in-hand, 
Naomi  and  Lucie ;  they  approached  the  castle,  he  beckoned 
to  them,  they  were  quite  close  to  him,  —  then  he  awoke.  The 
moon  shone  directly  into  his  face,  so  that  for  a  moment  he 
imagined  he  still  saw  the  splendor  of  the  beautiful  saloon. 

The  wind  blew  chill ;  a  death-like  silence  reigned  around  ; 
it  was  clear  to  him  in  what  a  forlorn  condition  he  found  him- 
self. He  stood  up,  and  walked  a  few  paces  ;  the  large,  dead 
building,  the  long,  stiff  avenues,  with  their  white  monuments, 
had  something  dreary  in  them :  Christian's  teeth  chattered 
with  cold.  To  seek  protection  from  the  cold  wind,  he  entered 
the  little  wood.  There  was  an  excavation,  a  kind  of  sand-pit ; 
he  descended  into  it  Suddenly  there  arose  a  human  figure 
in  a  huge  outline. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  what  dost  thou  want  ?  "  demanded  a  sharp 
voice. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  85 

"  O  Lord  Jesus  !  "  cried  Christian,  and  fell  upon  his  knees. 

"  Art  thou  a  child  ?  "  asked  the  form. 

Christian  related  who  he  was,  how  forlorn  he  was,  and  at 
the  same  moment  a  pair  of  arms  embraced  him. 

"  Dost  thou  not  know  me  ? "  said  the  voice.  "  Dost  thou 
no  longer  know  thy  godfather  ?  Speak  low  —  quite  low,  I  tell 
thee." 

And  Christian  became  joyful,  pressed  himself  to  his  god- 
father, and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek. 

"  What  a  beard  thou  hast !  "  remarked  Christian. 

"  But  for  all  that  I  am  not  the  wolf  that  devoured  the  old 
grandmother  and  the  little  girl,"  answered  the  man. 

"  O  yes  !  thou  didst  tell  me  that  story  once  before.  It  is 
long  since  I  have  heard  any  stories.  They  have  taken  my 
fiddle  away  and  sold  it,  and  Niels  has  made  a  kite  out  of  the 
music-book.  But  that  is  all  one,  if  I  may  only  remain  with 
thee." 

The  godfather  put  his  arms  round  his  neck  and  caressed 
him  after  his  manner ;  and  it  was  quite  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  things  that  they  met  here,  for  the  godfather  was  on  a 
journey.  The  moon  now  rose  so  high,  that  she  shone  upon 
the  little  group.  The  godfather  was  pale  and  yellow  in  his 
countenance  ;  his  beard  and  hair  were  in  disorder.  Christian 
sat  upon  his  knee  and  listened  to  a  history,  but  not  in  the  re- 
motest degree  did  he  imagine  that  this  was  his  godfather's  own 
history  :  — 

"  Now  there  was  once  born  a  hero  of  virtue :  thou  wilt 
soon  hear  what  a  strange  sort  of  animal  it  was.  Whilst  he 
still  lay  in  the  cradle  he  was  white  and  red  like  roses  and 
lilies,  had  innocent  eyes,  and  was  called  an  Angel  of  God. 
He  should  be  brought  up  in  innocence  ;  but  in  the  night  came 
the  Devil,  and  made  him  drink  the  milk  of  his  black  goat. 
Then  wild  desires  inflamed  his  blood,  but  no  one  remarked 
this  until  he  had  assumed  all  the  manners  of  a  hero  of  virtue. 
And  the  child  grew  into  a  boy,  who  could  blush  at  a  merry 
word.  He  read  industriously  in  the  Bible,  but  it  always 
^appened  that  he  opened  at  the  place  where  the  beautifu' 
woman  in  Solomon's  Song  is  described  —  the  most  beautiful 
fcf  Solomon's  wives  ;  or  he  found  Susanna  in  the  bath ;  oi 


86  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

David  with  Bathsheba.  No  one  knew  his  thoughts,  for  his 
words  were  pure  as  the  snow  which  as  yet  no  foot  has  trodden. 
Of  this  was  the  hero  of  virtue  proud,  and  would  like  to  have 
seen  himself  carried  about  in  a  cage,  so  that  all  the  world 
might  admire  such  a  wonderful  animal.  Thou  knowest  that 
out  of  old  mead  may  a  basilisk  be  created,  but  the  Devil's 
milk  is  a  yet  more  powerful  drink  ;  it  made  of  him  a  wild 
beast,  which  would  wind  itself  about  and  cringe :  it  vaunted 
itself  and  so  did  this  hero.  They  were  two  cocks  which 
swelled  with  pride.  Once  he  went  out  into  a  wood,  and  he 
met  a  maiden,  beautiful  and  pure.  Her  beauty  spurred  on 
the  powers  of  the  monster,  and  the  virtue-hero  became  a  wild 
beast  in  the  arms  of  the  maiden.  She  cried  for  help,  but  that 
was  only  an  artifice  of  the  Devil ;  and  the  virtue-hero  seized 
her  throat,  so  that  the  voice  died  away  and  she  became  black 
and  blue.  Then  he  flung  her  down  into  the  abyss.  But  from 
out  the  beautiful  form  which  he  had  embraced  arose  serpents 
and  lizards,  which  hissed  around  him,  crept  on  bushes  and 
trees,  and  cried  to  him  from  all  around :  '  Thou  art  a  sinful 
man,  like  the  rest ! '  And  the  dark  pines  nodded  their  heads 
and  said :  '  Thou  art  a  murderer ! '  Then  fled  the  virtue- 
hero  to  foreign  lands,  where  the  trees  would  know  nothing  and 
be  silent  But  winged  lizards  followed  him  ;  they  called  and 
sang  again  from  out  the  bushes,  and  lamented  like  the  cricket 
behind  the  stove  :  but  he  seized  his  fiddle  and  mimicked  them. 
They  then  fell  asleep.  His  blood  became  hotter.  The  neigh- 
bor's daughter —  But  thou  hearest  nothing  of  what  I  tell 
thee,  boy ! "  said  he,  continuing  to  mutter  to  himself,  in  an  un- 
intelligible manner.  "  He  sleeps !  If  one  could  thus  slumber 
into  eternity !  To  sleep  without  dreaming,  what  a  benefit 
must  that  be ! " 

His  hand  glided  over  the  boy's  countenance;  his  fingers 
touched  his  throat  "  Now  rides  Death  over  the  threads  of  thy 
life  !  Thy  soul  is  pure  and  innocent,  and  if  there  be  a  state 
of  happiness  thou  hast  a  clear  title  to  it,  if  I  involuntarily  send 
thee  out  of  this  life.  Ah,  how  little  is  required  to  send  a  soul 
out  of  the  world  !  But  I  will  not !  May  they  all  suffer  and 
be  tormented,  as  I  have  suffered  and  been  tormented !  Men 
shall  exercise  their  sharp  tongues  on  thy  tender  heart,  until  i* 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  87 

shall  be  covered  with  a  hard  skin ;  their  eyes  shall  so  long 
gaze  at  thee,  until  thy  thoughts  shall  turn  to  poison.  Man  is 
a  wicked  animal  ;  even  the  best  have  moments  when  poison 
drops  from  their  tongues.  And  art  thou  his  slave  ?  Thou 
must  be  silent,  and,  with  thy  heart  full  of  hate,  kiss  his  hand." 
In  the  early  morning  awoke  Christian  ;  his  eyes  sought  his 
godfather,  but  he  saw  him  nowhere.  He  cast  a  glance  upward, 
and  above  him  swung,  among  the  branches  of  the  tree,  a  — 
corpse !  Mouth  and  eyes  were  open,  the  black  hair  fluttered 
in  wild  disorder  around  the  pale,  swollen  countenance. 
Christian  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish  ;  it  was  indeed  his  god- 
father whom  he  saw  hanging  there !  One  moment's  terror 
chained  him  to  the  spot ;  then  he  ran,  flying  over  walls  and 
ditches,  out  of  the  garden,  and  reached  the  high-road.  Be- 
hind him  lay,  like  an  evil  dream,  the  wood  with  the  form  of 
terror  swinging  in  it  t 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

•I  live  on  the  wild,  wild  sea, 

Where  my  apron  is  a  jack, 
My  shift  a  sail,  and  fishes  only  are  fish ; 

There  my  jest  gets  no  clothes  to  its  back,— 
For  what  it's  worth  I  let  it  go. 
I  do  not  have  to  cook  my  words, 
My  comrades  eat  them  raw  enow."  —  BAGGESKI. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  jolly  tars  !  " 

The  People's  Play.  —  CAPRICIOSA. 

AT  some  distance  Christian  saw  a  woman  and  a  young  girl 
walking  on  the  road ;  he  approached  them,  and  they 
called  him  by  his  name.  They  were  Lucie  and  her  mother, 
who  in  the  early  morning  had  set  out  to  visit  the  mother's 
brother,  Peter  Vieck,  who  with  his  yacht  lay  at  Svendborg. 

Christian  in  a  confused  manner  told  of  the  godfather  in  the 
wood,  and  owing  to  the  horrors  of  a  suicide,  peculiar  to  the 
lower  class,  or  perhaps  to  the  possibility  of  getting  involved  in 
the  investigations  of  the  police,  Lucie's  mother  walked  all  the 
faster,  without,  however,  interrupting  the  discourse. 

"  But,  Almighty  God !  were  you  then  both  together  there 
all  night  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  met  him  there,"  answered  Christian  ;  and  then  con- 
fessed that  it  was  without  the  knowledge  of  his  parents  that  he 
had  left  the  house. 

"  God  preserve  us  !  They  must  be  in  great  anxiety  on  thy 
account.  Thou  must  not  go  farther !  Return  home !  If  they 
should  scold  thee,  and  beat  thee  a  little,  it  will  then  be  weh 
again  ! " 

"  Ah,  no ! "  sighed  Christian.  "  May  I  not  remain  with 
you  ?  Do  not  withdraw  your  hand  from  me  !  I  will  with 
pleasure  tend  your  fowls  and  ducks,  and  sleep  upon  the  straw 
in  the  loft ;  let  me  only  remain  with  you  :  do  not  drive  me  back 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  89 

again  to  the  house  !  "     He  burst  into  tears,  and  kissed  the 
woman's  hands  and  apron. 

Then  tears  came  into  Lucie's  eyes,  and  she  besought  for 
him.  "  Let  him  remain  with  us,  mother !  Dost  thou  not 
know  how  badly  his  half-brother  behaved  to  him  in  the 
church  ? " 

"  But  I  have  no  power  over  him !  I  cannot  take  him  from 
his  parents !  " 

"  He  can  easily  go  with  us  to  Svendborg ;  uncle  will  let  him 
sleep  all  night  in  the  ship,  and  to-morrow  he  can  return  with 
us.  Then  thou  wilt  first  speak  with  his  parents,  and  when 
their  worst  anger  is  abated  and  they  will  no  longer  scold  him, 
he  can  return  home  again.  He  may  do  so,  mother ;  may  he 
not?" 

Christian  looked  at  her  sorrowfully ;  she  took  him  by  the 
hand. 

"  Do  not  be  sad  !  mother  likes  thee,"  said  she,  and  looked 
beseechingly  at  her  mother. 

"  Be  it  so,  in  God's  name  !  "  said  she.  "  God  has  conducted 
thee  to  us ;  therefore,  remain  with  us  !  Thou  shalt  suffer  no 
want  in  Svendborg.  To-morrow  thou  wilt  go  back  with  us  ? " 

"  Yes."  answered  Christian,  whilst  a  deep  sigh  burst  from 
his  breast. 

Then  she  again  questioned  him  about  the  godfather,  and 
about  what  he  had  been.  The  boy  replied  as  well  as  he  could. 
Lucie  spoke  of  the  dear  uncle,  and  of  the  ship  on  which  they 
should  go  on  board,  of  the  nice  little  cabin  with  the  small  win- 
dows and  red  curtains,  and  of  the  shadow-picture  of  her  un- 
cle's deceased  wife,  who  had  been  a  Swede  from  Malmo.  She 
spoke  of  the  shelf  with  the  Bible,  the  hymn-book,  and  Alber- 
tus  Julius,  and  of  the  old  fiddle. 

At  these  words  Christian's  eyes  sparkled.  "  Fiddle  ! "  ex- 
claimed he  ;  and  now  he  had  a  presentiment,  for  the  first  time, 
of  how  dear  this  man  might  become  to  him. 

In  the  forenoon  they  reached  Svendborg.  With  what  joy 
did  he  once  more  see  lovely  Thorseng,  the  straits,  and  the 
whole  town  !  He  could  have  nodded  to  all  the  houses,  for  in 
truth  they  were  his  old  acquaintance.  They  went  up  the  Mill 
Street ;  he  looked  down  toward  his  godfather's  house ;  tha 


C)O  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

window-shutters  were  not  put  to,  but  the  door  was  fastened. 
They  reached  the  bridge. 

"There  lies  the  Lucie  I"  said  the  mother,  and  pointed  to  a 
vessel. 

"  And  there  stands  uncle ! "  cried  Lucie,  and  they  quick- 
ened their  pace. 

A  little  stout  man  in  a  flowered  cotton  jacket,  and  of  a  red, 
jovial  countenance,  stood  on  the  deck. 

"  How,  then  !  you  are  really  here !  "  exclaimed  he  ;  "  now 
that  we  really  must  put  down.  Lisbeth,  and  my  little  land- 
sailor,  you  came  from  the  north  with  a  south  wind.  Now,  up 
with  you  on  the  plank  !  " 

"  But  will  it  bear  us  ? "  asked  Lisbeth. 

"  If  it  bear  such  a  freight  as  me,  it  will  certainly  bear 
you,  you  tiny  chickens !  How  tall  thou  art  grown,  Lucie  ! 
Soon  a  bride.  Shall  he  be  thy  bridegroom,  this  little  bit  of  a 
fellow  whom  thou  hast  brought  with  thee  ?  "  He  pointed  to 
Christian.  "  Nay,  nay,  out  of  Jack  will  grow  a  John  !  Take 
care,  my  lad,  that  she  does  not  slip  away  from  thee,  before 
thou  givest  her  the  wedding-ring !  " 

"  How  neat  everything  is  here  about  thee,  dear  uncle !  "  said 
Lucie. 

"  The  devil !  dost  thou  think  my  ship  is  a  pig-sty  ?  No,  my 
sea.-Z,uae  is  every  morning  washed  and  adorned  like  every 
other  little  doll ;  and  do  we  sweep  before  a  good  wind  through 
the  sea,  her  body  is  bathed  in  quite  another  way.  The  deck 
must  be  clean ;  work-a-days  it  is  my  promenade ;  Sundays, 
my  church.  But  that  you  should  pay  me  a  visit,  that  is  quite 
unexpected :  that  was  a  good  idea,  Lisbeth !  " 

"  To  speak  the  truth,"  answered  she,  "  it  was  Lucie  who 
thought  of  it ;  and  there  was  no  peace  in  the  house  until  we 
set  out  on  our  journey." 

"  It  is  more  than  a  year  since  I  saw  thee,  uncle,"  said  the 
girl. 

"  But  Esben  shall  run  to  land  and  order  three  portions  of 
soup,  and  a  good  roasted  piece  of  meat ;  for,  by  my  soul,  you 
shall  dine  with  me  on  board.  Esben  makes  chicory- coffee 
which  we  might  set  before  the  Emperor ;  I  have  taught  him 
how  to  clear  it  with  isinglass.  Come  down  with  me  into  the 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  9! 

cabin  !  1  must  lay  my  old  ship  somewhat  on  one  side,  so  as 
to  get  down.  I  have  never  in  all  my  life  fallen  out  with  a  sin- 
gle human  soul ;  and  yet  every  day  am  I  quarreling  with  my 
cabin  door,  because  it  squeezes  my  ribs.  Formerly  I  was  as 
thin  as  a  lath." 

In  the  cabin  was  everything  just  as  Lucie  had  already  de- 
scribed it.  The  little  red  curtains  fluttered  before  the  cabin- 
windows,  between  which  hung  the  silhouette  of  Mrs.  Vieck. 
Above  the  windows,  on  a  shelf,  lay  the  books  and  the  violin ; 
this  especially  attracted  Christian's  attention,  for  however  sim- 
ple an  instrument  it  might  be,  it  still  seemed  to  him  an  Alad- 
din's lamp,  which  had  power  over  spirits,  —  the  mighty  spirits 
of  music. 

"  If  the  windows  only  came  down  a  little  lower,  it  would  be 
lighter  here,"  said  Lucie. 

"  Lower  down  !  "  returned  Peter  Vieck ;  "  then  the  sea 
would  wash  the  whole  body  of  the  vessel  clean  !  Thou  dost 
not  understand  as  much  of  sea  matters  as  a  goose,  which 
steers  itself  with  its  two  legs.  Ah,  you  land  people  are  fine 
ones  !  Dost  not  thou  know  the  story  of  the  boat,  or  the  young 
ship  ?  There  were  once  some  wise  people  of  thy  description, 
who  wished  to  buy  themselves  a  ship,  but  they  had  not  money 
enough  to  pay  for  a  great  vessel,  and  therefore  bought  a  jolly- 
boat  which  they  saw  hanging  on  the  stern,  thinking  it  was  a 
young  one  which  was  still  growing.  Now  they  took  this  young 
one  to  graze,  so  that  it  might  eat  and  grow  big ;  and  because 
the  creature  would  not  eat,  they  thought  it  was  ill  and  pining 
for  its  mother.  Therefore  they  gave  the  sailors  money  that  it 
might  remain  a  year  longer  with  its  mother,  till  it  had  learned 
to  eat  alone.  And  when  the  sailors,  not  wishing  to  refuse  the 
wise  people  this,  bound  the  jolly-boat  behind  the  ship,  they 
exclaimed,  '  See  how  merry  he  is  now ! '  That  was  when  they 
saw  it  tossing  on  the  waters  behind  the  great  ship.  Yes,  yes, 
you  land  people  are  good  sea-folks ! "  He  then  inquired 
about  Christian,  and .  learned  his  history,  and  that  he  had  left 
his  parents.  But  with  regard  to  the  affair  of  the  godfather  he 
said,  speaking  in  his  peculiar  manner,  it  would  be  best  to  let 
the  affair  sail  its  own  course,  and  not  steer  in  this  track.  For 
this  night,  Lisbeth  and  Lucie  could  sleep  at  his  lodgings  am 


Q2  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

shore  ;  he  himself  would  remain  on  board,  where  Christian 
might  have  a  berth.  When  the  two  were  left  alone  together, 
the  acquaintance  became  somewhat  more  intimate. 

"  Now,  my  youth,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  "  shall  we  combat 
with  the  sandman  ?  but  thou  mayest  believe  he  will  soon  whip 
us  up  into  the  third  heaven  !  Or  shall  I  fetch  myself  a  glass 
of  grog  and  a  pipe,  and  gossip  a  bit  with  the  two  women- 
folk ?  Thou  sayest  that  thou  canst  play  the  fiddle !  well  then, 
let  me  hear  thee  fiddle." 

Christian  trembled  with  joy  as  he  touched  the  strings  ;  he 
made  some  of  the  most  artistical  preludes  which  his  godfather 
had  taught  him. 

"  Yes,  truly !  "  said  Peter  Vieck,  smiling,  "  that  is  a  very 
nice  melody  if  it  had  only  been  in  another  tune  ;  that  is  truly 
Arabic  that  thou  art  playing,  for  it  gets  into  one's  head  like 
old  cognac.  Canst  not  thou  play  a  piece  that  will  put  the 
legs  in  motion  ?  "  He  took  the  violin  himself,  and  played  a 
Molinaski.  Then  he  asked  about  Christian's  condition  at 
home,  and  about  his  half-brother,  Niels.  "  But  why  art  thou 
such  a  flat  fellow  as  not  to  give  blows  in  return  ? "  said  he 
then.  "  Give  him  a  good  thumper,  and  he  will  soon  draw 
in  his  horns.  Sell  thy  fiddle !  that  was  a  sin  !  Thou  must 
stand  on  thy  own  feet.  Nay,  truly !  stand  thou  couldst  not, 
and  therefore  thou  hast  got  out  of  the  way.  True  it  is,  things 
often  go  on  worse  on  land  than  on  open  sea.  What,  then, 
was  thy  own  father  ? " 

Christian  related. 

"  I  knew  him,"  said  the  sailor.  "  Yes,  he  crawled  off  to 
land  at  Leghorn.  By  my  soul,  he  was  no  bad  fellow,  although 
he  was  a  tailor." 

"  Could  I  only  go  to  foreign  lands !  "  sighed  Christian. 
"  O,  if  I  could  only  remain  in  your  ship  !  "  At  these  words 
he  seized  the  old  seaman's  hand,  and  his  eyes  became  as 
eloquent  as  his  lips. 

"  If  thy  mother  said  Yes,  thou  couldst  always  remain  with 
me,  for  I  must  have  a  lad ;  but  I  will  tell  thee  this :  we  do 
not  always  lie  in  harbor;  we  get  into  the  sea,  where  Lucit 
begins  to  dance,  and  where  thou  mightest  get  a  little  shower- 
fcith.  It  may  also  chance  that  thou  mayest  get  a  jacketful  01 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  93 

a  good  knock ;  and  then  thou  must  give  up  all  thoughts  of 
running  away,  my  lad.  Neither  have  we  always  coffee  and 
sour  bread  on  the  table.  Sleep  now  in  the  little  cabin ;  there 
thou  liest  as  safely  as  in  thy  mother's  box." 

Peter  Vieck  sat  on  the  deck,  drank  his  grog,  and  smoked 
his  pipe  to  it ;  Christian  laid  himself  down  to  sleep.  Pious 
trust  in  God  filled  his  childish  soul. 

In  the  early  morning,  as  was  his  custom,  he  left  his  bed  ; 
this  made  a  good  impression  on  the  captain. 

"Thou  dost  like  the  cocks,'' said  he,  "thou  art  early  on 
thy  legs  :  that  I  like  !  But  it  would  be  best  for  thee  to  sail 
landward,  so  that  thou  mayest  have  thy  papers  clear,  and 
mother  say,  Thou  mayest  move  off.  God  help  me  !  now  he 
is  chop-fallen  !  Yes,  thou  art  the  right  sea-fish  for  me  ! " 

"  O,  keep  him  with  thee,  dear  uncle !  "  besought  Lucie, 
when  she  came  and  saw  Christian  mournful.  "  Mother  will 
go  over  this  evening  to  his  parents,  and  tell  them  all.  He 
has  no  one  who  could  be  to  him  such  a  good  uncle  as  thou  art 
to  me  !  "  And  her  small  hands  glided  caressingly  over  her 
great-uncle's  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  Nay,  only  see  !  has  not  that  thing  already  the  departed 
Mrs.  Peter  Vieck's  manners,  when  she  wishes  to  sail  in  deep 
water  ?  You  women  are,  after  all,  droll  stuff !  " 

Lucie  did  not  desist  from  her  sure  art  of  persuasion,  and 
Christian  might  now  remain  until  the  wishes  of  his  parents 
had  been  learned. 

Already  on  the  following  day,  Marie  came  to  Svendborg ; 
she  was  alone,  hastened  immediately  to  the  vessel,  and  kissed 
the  boy  and  scolded  him  at  the  same  time. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  to  run  away  from  us  in  that  way  1  Yes, 
thou  art  thy  father's  child  to  the  very  letter  ;  he  also  caused  me 
trouble.  Thou  must  not  think  that  I  will  beat  thee,  although 
thou  dost  deserve  it.  Only  try  what  it  is  being  among  stran- 
gers !  I  know  well  what  I  endured  with  thy  father.  And 
dost  thou  think  I  should  have  married  again,  except  on  thy 
account  ?  I  do  not  walk  on  roses,  thou  mayest  believe  that. 
But  thou  art  a  spoiled  child !  Sail  away  with  the  ship,  and 
if  it  is  lost  with  man  and  mouse,  I  shall  have  that  sorrow 
also." 


94  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  tenderly  scolding  mother  ;  and 
Christian  now  became  a  sailor-boy.  A  kind  of  contract  was 
signed  ;  the  only  thing  which  he  had  properly  understood  was 
the  permission  of  sometimes  borrowing  the  captain's  fiddle, 
for  he  had  anxiously  besought  this  when  asked  whether  he 
understood  everything. 

Now  he  must  make  acquaintance  with  the  fore-stay  and  jib, 
and  soon  he  hung  in  the  rigging  like  a  sea-mew,  although  he 
had  had  no  previous  practice  in  springing  and  climbing. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

44 1  gaze  from  the  side  of  the  ship  deep  down  into  the  water ;  the  sea-king 
•its  musing  in  the  twilight  on  his  watch-tower,  as  if  he  with  his  long  beard 
were  sleeping  over  his  harp.  The  ships  are  coming  and  going  over  his 
head,  but  he  hardly  observes  it ;  from  his  coral-reef  he  salutes  them  as  if 
dreaming. "  —  EiCHENDORFF. 

ON  the  1 8th  of  October  was  everything  on  board  ready 
for  sailing.  Beside  the  captain,  Peter  Vieck,  the  ship's 
company  consisted  of  three  sailors ;  there  were  also  two  passen- 
gers on  board,  a  lady  and  a  gentleman.  The  former  was  an 
elderly  gouvernante,  who  in  hei  blooming  days  had  appeared 
on  the  stage  of  the  theatre  at  Odense,  but  which  she  had  after- 
ward left  on  account,  as  she  said,  of  a  moral  consideration. 
Besides  this  she  wrote  verses,  but  only  in  the  German  lan- 
guage; for  alone  in  it,  said  she,  could  sublime  thoughts  be 
expressed.  She  was  now  going  to  a  noble  family  in  Copenha- 
gen. The  gentleman,  on  the  contrary,  lived  in  the  capital,  and 
was  a  counselor-of-war,  —  a  title  which  he  had  bought  at  the 
desire  of  his  wife. 

The  vessel  passed,  in  full  sail,  St.  Jiirgenshof  and  the  fishing- 
village.  It  seemed  to  Christian  hastening  on  into  the  wide 
world.  China  or  Copenhagen,  both  were  new  to  him.  Peter 
Vieck  would  sail  between  the  islands,  and  keep  an  open  sea. 

The  two  passengers  had  already  made  acquaintance  with 
each  other,  and  yet  the  Lucie  had  not  yet  passed  the  island  of 
Arro  before  the  counselor-of-war  had  laid  before  the  gouver- 
nante-elect  all  his  joys  and  sorrows.  He  was  a  poet,  and  had 
in  his  time  sent  contributions  to  the  "  Evening  Post "  and  Paul- 
sen's  "  New  Year's  Gift,"  yet  always  under  a  false  name  ;  elegiac 
poetry  was  his  peculiar  forte :  besides  this  he  wrote  catalogues 
for  auctions,  critiques,  and  any  kind  of  light  article. 

"  But  one  takes  no  pleasure  in  it, "  said  he.  "  One  sits  down 
to  look  out  for  faults,  about  which  one  only  angers  one's  self ; 


96  ONLY  A  FIDDLER: 

and  if  one  makes  them  known  people  are  angry.  '  Irritable 
genus ! '  as  the  Roman  says.  I  have  practiced  myself  in  all 
the  measures  of  Horace,  which  now,  alas  !  are  neglected  for  the 
more  modern  ones,  which  must  anger  any  man  of  classic  taste. 
I  have  also  raised  my  voice  against  them,  have  written  agains* 
them,  and  annoyed  myself  and  many  other  people  who  have 
sent  epigrams  to  the  papers ;  but  I  never  read  what  appears 
in  the  gazettes  and  journals  except  what  I  send  myself.  Then 
they  sent  me  by  the  foot-post  a  satirical  poem,  in  which  I  was 
called  a  busseman  ;  and  that  was  written  with  a  double  J,  which 
is  quite  incorrect,  because  the  word  comes  from  buse,  that  is,  a 
pirate-vessel  which  in  former  times  was  employed  by  pirates, 
who  were  called  busemen,  after  their  ships.  It  is  quite  annoy- 
ing when  people  apply  themselves  to  writing  when  they  don't 
know  how  to  spell,  which  is  just  like  people  wishing  to  talk 
when  they  have  no  teeth.  Stay!  that  thought  was  a  good 
one  ;  that  I  must  note  down,"  interrupted  he  himself,  repeating 
the  last  words  of  his  definition  to  himself,  and  then  writing  it 
down  with  his  pencil  in  his  pocket-book.  "You  see,  Mamsell, 
I  have  accustomed  myself  to  let  nothing  good  be  lost ;  if  I 
have  a  good  idea  I  write  it  down,  for  since  I  have  undertaken 
to  write  the  parts  for  our  dramatic  company  I  have,  like  Jean 
Paul,  a  drawer  near  me  full  of  strips  of  paper  with  such  ideas, 
and  these  I  insert  in  the  different  parts,  which  produces  a  good 
effect." 

The  gouvernante  related  to  her  companion  how  she  already, 
for  eleven  years,  had  kept  a  journal,  but  always  in  the  German 
language. 

This  was  the  low  comic  reality  of  every-day  life  which  here 
showed  itself,  but  in  both  of  them  we  may  find  a  beautiful  and 
poetical  side ;  for  all  people  have  this  side,  even  although  it 
may  only  show  itself  momentarily.  Even  in  the  crooked  mind 
of  the  gouvernante  there  lay  something  which  must  touch  every 
one.  For  almost  an  entire  year  she  had  lived  on  tea  and  bread, 
for  that  was  all  which  her  industry  could  earn  for  the  morning, 
mid  day,  and  evening  meal.  Her  standing  idea  was,  Virtue  is 
my  goal.  The  counselor-of-war  was  devoted  to  what  was  old. 
What  could  he,  indeed,  do,  since  Heaven  had  given  him  no 
Janus  countenance,  which  looked  equally  well  before  and 
after? 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  97 

At  noon  the  vessel  entered  the  open  sea  —  this  ostrich  of  the 
»ea,  which  rushes  over  the  great  wastes  of  ocean,  leaving  behir  d 
it  gulfs  and  bays ;  too  heavy  to  raise  itself  in  the  air,  it  has  al 
the  same  time  the  speed  of  a  bird.  The  swelling  sails  stood 
forth  like  wings  from  the  little  caravan  which  moved  along  itc, 
way.  Christian  saw  how  the  coasts  of  his  own  country  lost 
more  and  more  their  well-known  aspect ;  the  quick  passage, 
the  fresh  sea-air,  and  the  many  new  objects  which  glided  past, 
filled  his  soul  with  strange  thoughts. 

The  last  sunbeams  disappeared  in  the  mist  which  lay  upon 
the  ocean.  It  became  dark.  The  lantern  on  the  poop  only 
cast  its  light  upon  the  nearest  ropes.  The  waves  struck  with 
a  monotonous  splash  against  the  sides  of  the  vessel,  which 
with  quick  speed  glided  over  the  palaces  of  the  sea-kings.  Sud- 
denly it  struck  against  some  object ;  a  loud  cry  was  heard, 
which,  however,  was  soon  again  silent ;  the  waters  beat  more 
violently  against  the  ship,  and  on  board  was  heard  a  grating 
noise  at  the  bottom. 

"  Lord  Jesus  !  "  cried  the  sailor  at  the  rudder,  at  the  same 
time  giving  a  movement  to  the  vessel. 

The  lantern  was  drawn  up,  the  jolly-boat  let  down,  and 
Christian  must  ring  the  ship's  bell,  —  a  boat  full  of  men  had 
they  sailed  over  in  the  dark  night. 

"  Death's  mystery  is  too  deep  for  us  to  trace  I 
Canst  thou  unmoved  gaze  into  his  face  ? 
More  than  the  dreaming  poet  can  conceive 
Will  Death,  the  realizer,  to  us  give. 

"  We  know  already  here  this  plainest  truth, 
That  they  are  happiest  who  have  died  in  youth  • 
But  we  are  only  children,  yet  too  small 
For  that  which  in  yon  world  awaiteth  all." 

*  The  morning  air  is  cold,"  said  the  counselor-of-war,  when 
he,  at  break  of  day,  thrust  forth  his  yellowish  countenance  from 
the  cabin-door.  The  wind  blew  sharply,  and  had  raised  the 
mist  into  clouds ;  the  dark-green  sea  showed  her  white  foam. 
"  The  sky  looks  doubtful,"  pursued  the  counselor-of-war. 

"  It  looks  somewhat  bad,"  answered  the  captain,  and  pointed 
towaid  the  flying  rain-clouds. 
7 


98  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

"  Were  you  ever  out  at  sea  in  such  bad  weather  before  ? 
inquired  the  gouvernante. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  weather  ?  "  said  Peter  Vieck  j 
"  it  is  as  splendid  as  one  can  wish  it  to  be  !  Had  we  a  flying 
three-quarter  wind  the  Lucie  would  reel  about  in  another 
fashion."  Silent  he  remained  at  the  rudder,  and  looked  out 
over  the  foaming  sea. 

"  I  have  made  preparations  for  sea-sickness,"  said  the 
counselor-of-war.  "  I  have  vellum-paper  on  my  legs,  blotting- 
paper  on  my  stomach,  and  a  nutmeg  on  the  pit  of  the  stomach. 
I  h&ve  also  provided  myself  with  lemon-peel  for  chewing." 

The  gouvernante  had  merely  provided  herself  with  a  green 
silk  thread,  bound  round  the  left  hand,  and  always  turned  her 
face  against  the  wind. 

"  You  must  not  imagine  that  you  will  be  seasick,  my  little 
Mamsell,"  said  the  counselor-of-war.  "  I  can  read  you  a  little 
treatise  to  divert  you.  I  have  here  a  practical  proposition  for 
the  royal  theatrical  direction,  which  you  would,  perhaps,  like  to 
hear.  First,  I  propose  that  every  theatrical  singer  shall  be 
obliged  to  sing  that  part  which  is  laid  before  him  —  let  it  be 
bass  or  tenor,  it  is  all  the  same  :  if  he  have  a  voice  he  must 
be  able  to  sing ;  and  you  see,  Mamsell,  that  is  really  a  change 
for  the  better.  In  the  second  place,  I  wish  that  each  theatrical 
poet  shall  be  answerable  for  the  success  of  his  piece  ;  if  this 
do  not  at  the  first  or  second  representation  bring  a  certain 
sum  to  the  funds  of  the  theatre,  the  poet  must  make  good 
what  is  wanting.  This  is  a  proposal  which  is  very  advanta- 
geous, for  the  funds  are  always  the  important  thing  about  the 
stage ;  and  by  this  means,  also,  the  writing  mania  of  certain 
original  writers  may  be  tamed  a  little." 

"  I  feel  so  unwell  about  my  heart !  "  here  interrupted  the 
gouvernante. 

At  this  moment  a  wave  dashed  over  the  ship,  and  with  its 
salt-water  sprinkled  these  fresh  theatrical  regulations. 

"  A  little  piece  of  lemon-peel !  "  cried  the  counselor-of-war. 

"  O  Heavens  ! "  sighed  the  gouvernante ;  "  I  who  so  dearly 
Jove  the  sea  when  I  am  on  land  !  " 

"  Traly,  a  most  original  speech,"  said  the  counselor-of-war. 
*  Do  you  permit  me,  Mamsell,  to  rote  down  this  thought  ?  " 


99 

He  took  his  pocket-book  to  write  it  down,  whilst  Peter 
Vieck  bore  the  gouvernante  into  the  cabin. 

Meantime  the  counselor-of-war  studied  navigation  ;  upcn 
tvhich  he  intended,  after  completing  his  journey,  to  write  a 
treatise ;  for  there  was  no  subject  in  which  he  had  not  appeared 
as  an  author,  from  the  preparation  and  employment  of  bone- 
dust  as  manure  to  philosophical  reflections  upon  the  character 
of  Hamlet,  because  he  understood  all  subjects  equally  well. 
Therefore  he  hoped  that  government  would,  some  time,  be 
made  observant  of  him,  and  give  him  a  post  as  inspector  of 
the  stud,  head-pilot,  or  theatrical  director,  since  his  ability  was 
able  to  make  itself  available  everywhere. 

On  the  morning  of  the  following  day  he  observed  the  chalk 
rocks  of  the  island  Moen,  past  which  the  vessel  sailed.  In 
his  hand  he  held  the  manuscript  of  the  collected  poems  of 
the  gouvernante.  It  was  a  pity  that  just  the  very  poem  which 
referred  to  this  neighborhood,  "  On  seeing  the  island  Moen 
by  Moonlight,"  was  wanting  in  this  collection,  as  the  authoress 
did  not  write  it  till  fourteen  days  after  her  arrival  in  Copen- 
hagen, when  she  had  studied  the  rocks  in  "  Molbech's  Youth- 
ful Wanderings,"  where  they  are  represented  in  unnatural 
magnitude. 

"  Insula  Mona,  it  is  called  in  Latin,"  said  the  counselor-of- 
war.  "  There  is  an  uncommon  melody  in  the  language  of  the 
ancients !  They  were  men  ! "  He  then  sank  into  a  silent 
delight  over  the  sublime  wisdom  of  men  who  had  lived  two 
thousand  years  ago,  and  seized  his  pocket-book  to  note  down 
all  the  beautiful  thoughts  which  were  born  of  these  dreams. 

Toward  evening  the  towers  of  Copenhagen  and  the  castle 
of  Christiansborg  arose  out  of  the  Gulf  of  Kjoge.  The  eye 
took  in  the  outlines  as  darkness  again  obliterated  the  picture. 
In  the  same  manner  arise  also  in  our  soul  the  remembrances 
of  former  dream-pictures ;  yet,  whilst  we  strive  after  them,  does 
the  darkness  again  close  over  them.  Will  a  day  at  length 
arise  when  all  that  we  have  here  dreamed  will  be  changed  into 
reality  ? 

More  and  more  did  the  number  of  ships  increase  which  met 
them  ;  in  the  distance  already  glittered  the  lights  of  Copenha 
gen  and  of  the  island  Amack.  Christian  heard  now  the  wind 


IOO  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

lass  turned ;  the  anchor  was  let  down,  voices  were  heard  from 
the  land  ;  Peter  Vieck  got  into  a  jolly-boat ;  he  was  followed 
by  the  counselor-of-war  and  the  gouvernante,  the  latter  of 
whom  thrust  a  few  skillings  into  the  sailor-boy's  hand. 

Already  this  night  they  were  to  sleep  in  this  great,  wonder- 
ful city :  on  the  morrow  was  Christian  to  see  it.  Would  it 
indeed  be  larger  then  Svendborg  ?  Would  the  houses  resem- 
ble the  castle  at  Thorseng,  and  would  there  be  also  music 
here  ?  Whilst  these  thoughts  busied  his  soul,  there  resounded 
from  the  ramparts  of  the  near  citadel  a  bugle-horn.  The 
wind  bore  the  soft,  melancholy  tones  across  the  water  to  his 
ear ;  he  folded  his  hands  in  silent  prayer. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
"In  the  dancing-hall  I  also  once  have  been.  "  —  CARL  DAHLGREEN. 

THE  morning  dawned ;  Christian  hastened  on  deck  j 
and  if  a  marble  city  with  golden  roofs  had  lain  before 
him  he  would  not  have  been  astonished,  his  imagination  was 
prepared  for  anything.  He  had  fancied  to  himself  that  the 
first  view  of  the  large  city  would  enchant  him  ;  but  there  was 
nothing  at  all  of  anything  he  had  conceived.  He  saw  many 
ships,  some  houses,  and,  on  the  small  promontory  to  the  left, 
a  row  of  high  buildings,  which  seemed  to  swim  upon  the  wa- 
ter. 

The  sun  now  shone  upon  the  many  half-finished  vessels 
which  lay  in  the  docks  ;  the  workmen  became  visible  ;  and 
the  Lucie  glided  along  the  broad  stream  between  the  islands 
and  the  city ;  buildings  came  into  sight,  towers  and  bridges 
became  distinct.  They  sailed  down  a  whole  long  street :  that 
was  "  Newhaven."  Tall  houses  stood  on  either  side  —  no 
house  in  Svendborg  had  so  many  stories.  Large  and  smal, 
vessels  lay  here  side  by  side  in  the  broad  canal,  and  from  each 
streamed  its  gay  flag,  for  there  was  a  wedding  in  the  harbor. 
That  was  a  splendid  sight,  just  as  if  the  king  were  coming  ! 
In  the  narrow  streets,  on  either  side  the  canal,  carriages  and 
coaches  rushed  past,  and  people  cried  and  shouted.  Grandly 
dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  passed  by  without  greeting  each 
other. 

The  Lucie  was  now  brought  alongside  the  bastioa  and 
made  fast. 

At  the  end  of  the  canal  there  lay  a  large  market-place,  and 
from  thence  resounded  festive  and  beautiful  music  !  Yes, 
doubtless,  in  this  great  city  there  was  nothing  but  festival  day  <? 
and  joy.  The  day  vanished  like  a  single  hour  ;  and  when 
avening  approached,  and  the  flags  were  lowered,  there  aj> 


IO2  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

peared  in  all  windows,  in  honor  of  the  bridal  pair,  lights  which 
illuminated  the  whole  canal,  and  mirrored  the  houses  in  the 
clear  water.  A  boy  with  an  organ  played  melancholy  dances. 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Christian,  "  if  one  could  only  always  remain 
in  the  midst  of  this  splendor  and  glory  ! " 

Peter  Vieck  was  already  gone  to  pay  visits,  and  two  of  the 
sailors  had  received  permission  to  go  on  land.  Christian  be- 
sought that  they  would  take  him  with  them,  which  was  not 
quite  agreeable  to  one,  who  thought  the  lad  could  not  go  with 
them  to  StefFen-Margaret's.  Nevertheless,  he  went. 

They  stepped  on  land,  and  went  over  the  large  square. 
Here  sat  a  bronze  king  on  horseback,  surrounded  by  four  gi- 
gantic figures.  The  buildings  which  he  now  saw  seemed  to 
him  to  be  palaces  ;  and  in  the  streets  through  which  they 
passed  every  shop  gleamed  out  more  beautifully  than  the  last. 
Here  was  a  crush  !  Carriages  rushed  past  far  oftener  than  to 
the  ball  at  the  town-hall  at  Svendborg.  They  now  reached 
smaller  streets,  but  the  houses  here  were  equally  high  ;  and  at 
the  open  windows  sat  beautiful,  elegant  ladies,  dressed  as  if  for 
a  ball,  who  greeted  the  passers-by  in  as  polite  and  friendly  a 
manner  as  if  they  had  been  their  acquaintance.  At  the  corner 
of  a  street  sat,  cowering  on  the  cold,  dirty  steps,  a  young,  deathly 
pale  woman.  She  was  wrapped  in  rags ;  a  little  half-naked 
boy  lay  weeping  in  her  lap  ;  a  yellow,  sickly-looking  baby  lay 
at  her  famished  breast ;  she  leaned  her  head  against  the  wall 
and  cursed  ;  she  seemed  neither  to  feel  anything  for  the  elder 
nor  yet  for  the  younger  child. 

"  She  is  ill !  "  exclaimed  Christian.  "  Shall  we  not  tell  the 
genteel  ladies  ? " 

The  sailors  laughed,  and  led  him  into  a  by-street,  where 
flutes  and  violins  resounded  from  a  low  house.  Here  they 
entered. 

Jubilant  tones  flowed  through  the  boy's  heart ;  the  number 
of  lights  in  the  chandeliers  and  small  lamps  blinded  him,  al- 
though a  gray  mist  lay  over  all.  With  his  hat  in  his  hand,  he 
bowed  with  a  friendly  air  on  all  sides,  but  no  one  paid  any  at- 
tention. The  men  were  not  dressed  up,  but  the  ladies  were 
all  the  more  so,  and  their  cheeks  bloomed  like  roses.  A 
great  fellow  danced  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  blew  great 


ONLY  A    FIDDLER!  1 03 

clouds  of  srruke  over  the  shoulders  of  his  lady.  Near  the 
door  sat  a  young  girl  with  her  cavalier  ;  certainly  they  were 
betrothed  !  Now  appeared  a  tall  lady  in  a  white  dress  ;  she 
wore  flowers  in  her  hair,  and  carried  a  bottle  of  ale  in  her 
hand.  That  was  SterFen-Margaret.  She  knew  the  seamen, 
and  was  perhaps  related  to  them,  for  she  threw  her  arms 
round  them  and  gave  a  kiss  of  welcome.  That  was  an  espe- 
cially beautiful  lady  !  She  spoke  so  sweetly  to  Christian,  and 
gave  him  a  glass  of  punch.  He  kissed  her  hand,  and  she 
kindly  parted  his  hair  and  stroked  it  back  from  his  face.  She 
was  certainly  a  thoroughly  kind  lady  ! 

Full  of  reverence,  and  with  a  grateful  heart,  he  quitted  her 
house.  The  history  of  the  peasant-boy  who  became  emperor 
occurred  to  him :  yes,  would  this  grand  lady  only  interest 
herself  about  him,  he  could  easily  attain  to  playing  the  violin  • 
perhaps  find  a  place  among  the  other  musicians  ;  perhapj 
become  something  still  grander ;  but  it  must  be  in  the  mu- 
sical line  ! 

It  was  become  tolerably  quiet  in  the  streets.  It  was 
already  late  in  the  night,  but  of  that  he  was  not  aware.  Still 
sounded  the  flutes  and  violins,  and  through  the  heart  cut  in 
the  window-shutter  streamed  a  long  ray  of  light.  Now,  a 
\v  atchman  of  a  by-street  blew  his  whistle,  voices  were  heard  ; 
there  was  a  tumult.  Immediately  there  passed  him  a  strange 
procession.  Upon  a  ladder  there  lay  bound  a  young  girl, 
dressed  like  the  ladies  of  the  saloon,  and  watchmen  bore  her 
away.  Christian  knew  not  what  to  think  of  this  city,  or  of 
the  people  who  lived  in  it.  He  again  reached  his  ship  ;  the 
houses  were  still  illuminated,  and  the  lights  reflected  them- 
selves in  the  waters  of  the  harbor.  The  sailors  forbade  him 
to  tell  the  captain  where  he  had  been  with  them. 

Overpowered  by  the  various  impressions  which  the  past  day 
and  evening  had  made  upon  his  young  soul,  he  could  not 
sleep ;  predominant  was  the  thought,  —  Couldst  thou  always 
remain  here !  The  lady  who  had  kissed  and  caressed  him 
appeared  so  good,  and  of  such  consequence,  he  would  confide 
in  her !  She  could  do  a  deal  for  him,  and  she  would  willingly 
do  it,  were  he  right  candidly  to  reveal  his  inclination  for  the 
vkJin.  Full  of  pious  faith  he  included  her  in  his  evening 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

prayer,  and  determined  some  day  secretly  to  go  to  her     Then 
did  sleep  close  his  weary  eyes. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  hung  high  up  among  the  rigging 
to  repair  something,  he  was  astonished  at  the  wide  prospect 
which  presented  itself.  On  the  right  he  had  the  large  market 
place  with  the  bronze  statues  ;  on  the  left  he  looked  over  the 
islands  into  the  dark-blue  sea,  and  on  toward  the  Swedish 
coast.  But  more  than  all  the  rest,  did  the  sight  of  a  garden 
captivate  him,  which  was  close  behind  the  wall  before  which 
the  ship  lay.  Wonderfully  beautiful  and  rare  plants  grew  in 
it,  and  a  large  poplar,  which  reminded  him  strongly  of  the 
Jew's  garden  which  he  had  once  seen  as  a  child.  Behind  the 
high  bushes  looked  forth  glass-houses,  behind  the  windows  of 
which  were  leaves  and  flowers  visible.  It  was  the  Botanic 
Garden  which  so  attracted  him.  Everything  which  he  had 
seen  of  Copenhagen  was  perfectly  beautiful ;  and  still  the 
others  said  he  had  as  yet  seen  nothing.  Here  he  desired  to 
remain  ;  God  would  certainly  help  him  to  do  so,  thought  he. 
As  soon  as  he  should  be  again  permitted  to  go  on  shore  he 
would  seek  out  the  friendly  lady,  upon  whom  he  had  founded 
all  his  hopes. 

In  the  following  week  was  the  birthday  of  the  reigning 
queen.  All  the  vessels  which  lay  in  the  harbor  hoisted  their 
colors,  and  the  streets  resounded  with  all  kinds  of  music. 
Christian  received  permission  to  wander  about  by  himself, 
and  now  it  was  needful  to  find  his  way  to  the  little  street  in 
which  he  had  been  the  first  evening. 

The  great,  grand  street  with  its  many  shops  he  soon  found. 
Here  fluttered  all  manner  of  gay  stuffs  at  the  doors,  the  most 
amusing  toys  were  to  be  seen  in  the  windows,  and  the  signs 
were  like  pictures  —  one  might  have  adorned  the  walls  of 
A  room  beautifully  with  them.  Sunk  in  contemplation,  he 
wandered  from  one  street  to  another ;  the  one  he  sought  he 
did  not  find.  He  came  to  a  square  where  a  fountain  fell  into 
a  basin,  and  the  streams  played  with  golden  apples.  This 
happened  in  honor  of  the  day.  Yes,  Copenhagen  was  a 
glorious  city !  But  how  should  he  again  find  that  lady  ? 
There  were  no  other  means  to  be  thought  of,  he  must  beg  the 
sailors  to  take  him  once  more  with  them  ;  then  he  would  more 
carefully  impress  on  his  memory  where  she  lived. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  1 05 

In  the  evening  there  was  an  illumination ;  in  the  great 
market-place  burnt  pitch-torches,  and  the  king  and  queen 
drove  in  their  splendid  carriages  to  the  play. 

"  There  we  also  will  go  some  evening,"  said  Peter  Vieck. 
"  There  thou  shalt  hear  music,  and  see  fine  things." 

Could  there,  then,  be  more  splendid  music  than  he  had 
heard  in  the  streets  ?  Could  gayety  be  carried  to  a  greater 
excess  than  he  had  seen  among  the  gayly  dressed  ladies  ? 

They  went  through  a  by-street ;  Christian  knew  it  again. 
The  light  shone  through  the  cut-out  hearts ;  in  the  loom  re- 
sounded the  music.  Yes,  there  was  the  place  where  he  had 
been.  Carefully  he  now  impressed  the  street  and  house  in 
his  memory. 

The  next  Sunday  he  asked  permission  to  go  to  church,  put 
on  his  best  clothes,  and  went  then  to  the  nearest  church.  He 
had  no  hymn-book,  but  he  satisfied  himself  with  singing  the 
melody  after  the  organ  ;  and  when  service  was  over  he  sought 
out  the  well-known  street,  and  at  length  found  it.  The  shut- 
ters were  still  closed  at  the  house,  and  he  entered  a  dark  pas- 
sage, in  which  he  found  the  door  so  well  known  to  him.  Be- 
fore he  ventured  to  knock,  he  prayed  that  he  might  succeed 
in  softening  the  good  lady's  heart,  so  that  she  should  find  him 
some  musical  situation.  He  had  no  regularly  formed  plan. 

He  now  knocked.  An  old  woman  in  dirty  clothes  opened 
the  door,  and  demanded  what  he  wanted  ?  His  answer  was 
somewhat  disconnected,  and  the  old  woman  was  about  to 
fasten  the  door  again,  when  Steffen-Margaret  herself,  in  a 
light  morning-dress,  appeared.  She  wore  laced  boots  with 
fur  at  the  ankles. 

"  Is  it  thou  ?  "  said  she,  smiling  with  her  friendly  counte- 
nance. "  Hast  thou  a  message  from  Soren  for  me  ?  " 

The  old  woman  stepped  aside,  and  Christian  now  seized  the 
lady's  hand,  kissed  her  fingers,  and  then  with  great  ndiveti  re- 
lated his  great  love  of  music,  how  badly  it  had  gone  with  him 
at  home,  and  how  he  had  now  entered  the  world.  At  first  the 
lady  laughed  at  him  ;  soon,  however,  she  listened  to  him  more 
gravely,  and  at  length,  when  his  tears  flowed,  she  dried  his 
eyes  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  Yes,  my  good  lad,"  said  she,  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 


IO6  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

Turkish  music.  If  thou  hadst  only  been  a  little  girl !  "  She 
then  led  him  to  an  open  cupboard,  gave  him  punch  to  drink, 
made  him  a  present  of  apples,  and  then  laughed  right  heartily. 
"  Thou  art,  after  all,  a  kind  of  genius,"  said  she. 

At  this  moment  several  other  young  ladies  entered  from  a 
side  room  ;  they  were  equally  lightly  clothed,  and,  when  they 
had  heard  Christian's  proposal,  they  also  laughed  and  looked 
at  him  with  astonished  eyes. 

What  might  he  hope  ?  and  what  did  she  promise  him  ? 
He  was  full  of  joy  when  he  left  the  house  :  she  had  held  out 
her  hand  to  him,  and  had  said  to  him,  in  a  consoling  manner, 
he  should  be  of  good  courage  and  he  would  make  his  way. 

He  placed,  in  truth,  as  much  faith  in  this  consolation  as 
many  another  true  genius  who  lays  his  fate  in  the  hands  of  a 
wealthy  man  or  woman,  who  often  knows  how  to  judge  these 
things,  perhaps,  no  better  than  Steffen-Margaret  herself. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  Margot.  —  It  was  she. 
Louison,  —  And  she  knew  us  not !  " 

The  Maid  of  Orleans.  —  SCHILLKX. 

THIS  evening  we  will  go  to  the  play,"  said  Peter  Vieck, 
and  took  good  little  Christian  by  the  hand. 

A  peasant  who  had  never  been  in  a  theatre  before  was  once 
taken  to  see  a  play ;  when  he  entered  the  vestibule  he  went 
straight  up  to  the  check-taker's  box,  thrust  his  head  through 
the  little  opening,  and  remained  standing  there  in  the  expec- 
tation that  this  was  the  place  in  which  he  should  see  the 
play.  The  same  thing  might  have  happened  to  Christian,  for 
never  in  his  life  had  he  seen  a  theatre.  All  was  new  to  him 
—  the  sentinels  in  the  vestibule,  as  well  as  the  crowd  of  peo- 
ple who  ascended  the  stairs. 

"  Now  thou  shalt  see  a  little  box ;  we  will  soon  sit  in  the 
middle  of  it,"  said  Peter  Vieck.  "  They  will  stick  us  in  the 
upper  drawer.  See,  the  under  ones  are  a  little  drawn  out,  so 
that  the  ladies  may  not  spoil  their  grandeur  !  " 

They  took  their  places  on  the  first  bench.  Christian  was  in 
a  solemn  mood  ;  the  whole  seemed  to  him  like  a  great  church. 

"  Those  laced  beds  there,  on  either  side,  are  for  the  king 
and  queen,"  said  Peter  Vieck.  "  That  painted  sheet  there, 
in  front,  goes  up  into  the  air  like  a  ship's  sail :  and  then  the 
ladies  come  forth  and  stretch  out  their  legs,  first  this  one,  then 
that  one,  like  flies  upon  a  dish  of  milk." 

The  lamps  threw  their  bright  light  upon  the  gilt  boxes,  in 
which  sat  the  richly  dressed  ladies.  And  now  entered  the 
king  and  the  whole  court ;  Christian  felt  alarmed,  and  yet 
was  highly  delighted  ;  he  was  then  in  the  very  same  house  in 
whioh  the  king  was  ;  he  had  only  to  call  out  loudly  and  the 
king  would  hear,  and  certainly  ask,  "  Who  calls  ?  " 


io8  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

Now  all  was  quite  silent,  when  suddenly  there  burst  forth 
an  ocean  of  music.  The  representation  commenced,  and  he 
heard  such  singing  as  he  never  heard  before.  Tears  started 
to  his  eyes ;  he  suppressed  them,  for  people  would  certainly 
laugh  at  him  did  they  see  him  crying.  The  joys  of  heaven 
could  not  be  greater  than  always  sitting  here,  thought  he  , 
and  yet  the  piece  that  was  given  was  somewhat  wearisome, 
said  the  others.  But  now  came  the  best  at  the  end,  the  iplen- 
did  ballet  of  "  Bluebeard." 

The  music  sounded  like  human  voices  —  yes,  like  all  living 
nature.  He  fancied  he  again  heard  the  storm  at  St.  Regissa's 
Well,  when  the  trees  bent  like  reeds  and  the  leaves  whirled 
about.  He  heard  the  wind  as  it  rushes  through  the  rigging 
and  masts,  but  melodiously  beautiful,  far  more  beautiful  than 
his  godfather's  playing  ;  and  yet  this  music  reminded  Chris- 
tian of  him. 

The  curtain  rose,  and  Bluebeard's  seven  murdered  wives 
floated  in  their  white  garments  over  the  couch  of  their  mur- 
derer. The  music  expressed  the  passionate  language  of  the 
dead ;  his  imagination  followed  the  whole  romantic  poem. 
The  happy  children  who  danced  before  Isaura !  Were  he  only 
among  them  !  A  more  beautiful  fate  than  that  of  these  little 

o 

ones  he  could  not  imagine  upon  earth.  O,  might  he  only  shout 
his  wishes,  his  love  of  music,  to  the  king,  the  gracious  gentle- 
man would  assist  him  !  But  he  did  not  dare  to  do  this.  The- 
atrical life  seemed  to  him  a  magical  picture  of  happiness  and 
excellence,  and  many  other  people  dream  the  same  as  he. 

At  Paris,  in  the  ballet  "  Le  Diable  Boiteux,"  one  sees  the 
opposite  of  that  which  the  spectator  is  accustomed  to  see. 
One  is  placed  in  the  scene  itself,  and  gazes  from  thence  upon 
an  imaginary  theatre ;  the  scenes  turn  their  unpainted  sides 
toward  one,  the  up-rolled  background  is  the  curtain,  and  one 
sees  the  rows  of  spectators  who  applaud  and  hiss.  The 
dancers  turn  their  backs  upon  the  public.  By  this  representa- 
tion one  is  transported  behind  the  scenes  ;  could  we  only  gaze 
as  easily  into  the  human  hearts  which  there  beat,  what  a 
shadow-world  of  passions  and  tears  would  be  revealed  !  This 
host  of  dancing  women  know  in  their  homes  nothing  but 
poverty.  In  the  chorus  of  singers  is  one  who  might  take  the 


ONLY  A    FIDDLER!  ICKJ 

first  place  on  the  stage ;  but  the  directors  do  not  know  how  to 
value  him,  and  the  manager  cannot  endure  him.  In  the  theat- 
rical state  one  lives  under  the  dominion  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants. 
A  badly  paid  artist  has  full  right  to  a  ticket  for  food,  gratis, 
from  the  institution  for  the  relief  of  the  poor.  The  poet 
receives  no  pension,  in  order  that  the  recollection  of  the  naked 
present  may  keep  him  in  a  fit  tragical  mood. 

"  There  sits  Naomi !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Christian,  in  the 
midst  of  his  delight  at  what  went  on  before  him.  "  Yes,  it  is 
she  !  "  and  his  glance  forsook  the  enchanted  world,  Isaura's 
struggle,  and  the  seductive  golden  keys  ;  for  he  only  saw  the 
slender,  sweet  girl,  with  the  coal-black  gazelle  eyes  and  the 
southern  complexion.  She  sat  in  the  first  row  among  the  other 
elegantly  dressed  ladies.  "  We  have  played  together,"  said 
he  to  Peter  Vieck,  and  from  that  moment  his  interest  was 
divided  between  the  ballet  and  Naomi. 

Only  too  soon  ended  that  glorious  and  splendid  spectacle, 
and  now  all  hastened  forth,  as  though  they  had  been  endeavor- 
ing to  escape  from  something  unpleasant.  In  vain  did  Chris- 
tian's eyes  search  in  the  crush  for  Naomi  ;  she  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen  :  perhaps  it  was  she  who  just  then  rolled  away  in 
the  splendid  coach  ? 

Long  did  the  music  sound  in  Christian's  ears  ;  the  whole 
representation  stood  livingly  before  his  eyes.  Thus  do  we 
long  gaze  at  the  glory  of  a  star  when  daylight  has  driven  it 
away.  Now  he  felt  that  there  was  something  higher,  some- 
thing nobler  than  the  mere  occupations  of  every-day  life  ;  his 
intellectual  being,  his  genius  had  been  awoke,  and  strove  after 
development.  He  had  a  feeling  of  the  pearl  which  lay  con- 
cealed in  his  soul,  the  holy  pearl  of  art ;  but  he  knew  not  yet 
that  it,  like  the  ocean  pearl,  must  await  the  diver,  who  will 
bring  it  forth  to-day,  or  must  cling  fast  to  the  mussels  or 
oyster,  in  order  by  means  of  these  high  patrons  to  attain 
observation. 

"  Now,  my  lad,  thou  wouldst  have  liked  to  jump  about  with 
the  rest,  wouldst  thou  not  ? "  said  Peter  Vieck. 

"  Yes  !  "  replied  Christian  in  his  enthusiasm. 

"  That  is  sorrowful  bread,  my  son ! "  said  the  captain. 
M  When  thou  or  I  pay  our  three  marks,  they  must  be  our  fools.' 


I  JO  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

No,  in  that  manner  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  regard  the 
alfair !  The  king  and  a  thousand  people  had  looked  on,  and 
listened  with  the  greatest  attention ;  devotion  had  filled  the 
whole  house  as  in  a  church.  As  yet  he  had  forgotten  nothing, 
and  in  the  midst  of  all  these  longed-for  splendors  floated 
Naomi's  form  before  his  eyes  —  she,  the  friendly  playfellow 
of  his  childhood ! 

Rich  in  thought  lay  he  in  his  little  berth  in  the  low  cabin  ; 
a  cheerless  mist  spread  its  covering  over  the  vessel,  as  though 
he  were  lying  there  concealed  and  forgotten  by  the  whole 
great  city.  Perhaps  this  was  an  emblem  of  his  future,  the 
emblem  of  many  a  richly  gifted  soul.  Genius  resembles  an 
egg,  which  requires  the  warmth,  the  vivifying  principle  of  good 
fortune,  that  it  may  not  become  a  wind-egg. 

It  was  long  past  midnight  before  the  boy  fell  asleep. 

Often  after  that  evening  did  he  sit  in  his  dark  cabin  —  for 
in  the  harbor  no  vessel  is  allowed  to  burn  a  light  —  and  played 
reminiscences  from  "  Bluebeard  ;  "  he  busied  himself  in  find- 
ing on  his  violin  the  tones  which  answered  to  the  wind  blowing 
through  the  rigging  of  the  ship.  From  the  music  which  he 
daily  heard  played  by  the  main-guard  he  treasured  up  in  his 
memory  whole  strains,  which  he  then  repeated  on  his  violin  as 
a  varied  pot-pourri.  Often  flattered  he  himself  with  the  hope 
that  the  friendly  lady,  his  good  fairy,  would  suddenly  appear 
on  board,  and  wdrk  a  change  in  his  condition.  He  thought 
of  Naomi ;  yes,  she  loved  him  !  she  had  indeed  wept  when  she 
was  torn  away  from  him  ! 

As  he  thus  one  evening  sat  quite  alone  in  the  vessel,  lights 
streamed  over  to  him  from  the  beautiful  house  opposite  to 
which  the  vessel  lay  at  anchor,  and  he  heard  gay  music. 
There  was  a  dance.  The  whole  reminded  him  of  the  evening 
in  the  Glorup  garden.  He  stood  and  leaned  against  the  mast, 
thoughtful  and  listening,  and  drank  in  the  sweet  music. 

Suddenly  he  thought  he  would  climb  up  the  mast,  which 
would  bring  him  on  a  level  with  the  ball-room.  A  window 
stood  open,  and  through  it  he  could  see  the  whole  gay  com- 
pany. It  consisted  mostly  of  children  ;  it  was  a  children's 
ball  which  was  given.  All  seemed  joyous,  and  were  festally 
wraved.  On  the  walls  of  the  ball-room  hung  large  paintings  : 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  \\\ 

am  shining  consoles  stood  two  marble  busts,  and  around  glit- 
tered lights  and  mirrors,  exhibiting  all  the  objects  in  an  in- 
creased splendor.  There  now  floated  a  delicate,  lovely  girl 
over  the  floor,  her  black  hair  fell  in  curls  upon  her  beautiful 
neck,  and  her  dark  eyes  beamed  a  joyous  life.  "  Naomi ! '' 
cried  Christian,  suddenly  with  a  loud  voice  ;  and  he  could  see 
how  she  started,  looked  around  her  on  all  sides,  and  smiled. 
His  eyes  were  alone  riveted  upon  her,  his  thoughts  were  with 
her  —  and  he  let  the  ropes  glide  through  his  hands,  sprang  on 
land  and  into  the  house,  rushed  up  the  steps,  opened  the  door 
ol  the  saloon  from  whence  sounded  the  music,  and  at  once 
stood  in  the  midst  of  the  gayly  dressed  children,  who,  full  of 
astonishment,  stared  at  the  poor  sailor-lad,  who  now,  dazzled 
by  the  brightness  of  the  lamps  and  tapers,  had  returned  to 
consciousness,  and  stood  embarrassed  in  the  splendid  room. 

"  What  dost  thou  want  here  ?  "  asked  two  half-grown  boys, 
•whose  fathers,  one  immediately  saw,  were  either  wealthy  or 
held  some  office  which  gave  them  importance.  They  were 
two  ciphers  among  the  numbers,  who  reflected  no  glory  on 
their  families,  but  only  received  their  worth  from  the  figures 
behind  which  they  were  placed. 

Naomi  had  also  approached  him,  and  observed  him  with 
curiosity  ;  she  smiled  — ^-  certainly !  she  recognized  him !  Chris- 
tian stretched  forth  his  hand  toward  her  and  stammered, 
"  Naomi !  "  She  became  crimson  all  over. 

"  Dirty  lad !  "  exclaimed  she,  and  tore  herself  away.  At 
the  same  instant  a  servant  entered. 

"  What  dost  thou  want  ?  "  said  he,  seizing  the  boy  roughly 
by  the  shoulder.  Christian  stammered  a  few  words,  whilst 
the  servant  said  he  had  made  a  bad  hit  and  had  lost  nothing 
here.  He  led  him  to  the  steps  ;  and  without  replying  another 
word,  and  wounded  to  the  soul,  Christian  rushed  down  the 
way  he  had  come,  and  went  again  on  board.  He  clung  to 
the  mast  and  wept  bitterly,  whilst  the  music  rejoiced  in  gay 
dance-melodies. 

The  deep  grief  of  a  child's  soul  is  not  inferior  to  the  great- 
eat  sorrows  of  a  grown-up  person.  The  child  in  his  sorrow 
knows  not  the  consolation  of  hope ;  reason  does  not  extend 
fter  supporting  hand  toward  him,  and  in  the  first  moments  of 


112  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  I 

his  agony  he  has  nothing  but  his  sorrow.  She  had  denied 
him ;  she,  whom  he  loved  as  a  sister  !  He  felt  that,  like  the 
Pariah,  he  belonged  to  a  despised  caste.  All  the  fetters  which 
chained  him  pressed,  in  this  moment,  tighter  round  his  heart. 
His  playfellows  in  the  farm-yard  had  mocked  him,  had  called 
him  a  crazy  fellow ;  Naomi,  who  had  once  understood  him, 
turned  away  from  the  "  dirty  lad  !  " 

Such  a  moment  makes  rich  in  experience.  The  merry 
jubilee  above  was  a  Bengal-light,  which  illuminated  the  con- 
cluding act  of  his  life's  drama.  He  again  climbed  up  the 
mast,  and  gazed  through  the  open  window  into  the  splendid 
hall,  where  Naomi  and  the  happy  children,  arm-in-arm,  floated 
along  to  the  jubilant  tones.  The  domestics  presented  in 
crystal  dishes  the  most  costly  meats  and  splendid  fruits,  and 
in  the  middle  of  the  hall  stood  Naomi  with  her  dark  eyes, 
laughing  and  clapping  her  hands.  But  without  fell  the  cold 
sleet,  and  a  gray  mist  cast  its  damp  mantle  on  "the  dirty 
lad/'  who  clung  fast  to  the  wet  ropes. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

*  I  will  drive  over  the  sea,  — 

Over  the  sea  so  smooth  and  white  ; 
Fear  not,  fear  not  to  drive  with  me,  — 
To  drive  with  me  this  winter  night. 
Day  upon  day  the  eager  frost 
Has  built  a  bridge  to  bear  a  host." 

CHRISTIAN  WINTHER. 

IT  was  a  severe  and  a  long  winter  :  the  ice  lay  like  a  firm 
bridge  between  Zealand  and  Schonen.  The  Swedish 
peasant,  who  is  always  the  first  who  ventures  to  make  the 
journey  over  the  bridge  which  has  been  erected  by  the  cold, 
drove  in  his  sledge  toward  Denmark  ;  and  people  drove  cattle 
for  slaughter  across  the  ice,  although  it  was  asserted  that  the 
passage  over  the  channel  where  the  stream  ran  was  by  no 
means  without  danger.  Between  Copenhagen  and  the  battery 
of  the  Three  Crowns,  which  lies  at  the  distance  of  about  two 
miles,  there  extended  itself  a  broad  road  made  dirty  by  traffic, 
and  on  either  side  wound  the  track  of  the  foot-passengers. 
Where  only  a  few  weeks  before  three-masted  vessels  had 
locked  themselves  in  security  on  the  water,  now  sat  old 
women  with  tables  spread,  and  offered  bread  and  drinkables 
at  a  cheap  rate.  Here  also  stood  tents,  upon  which  the 
Danish  flag  floated  in  the  blue,  frosty  air,  and  through  the 
whole  day  it  was  one  swarm  of  human  beings.  Ships,  great 
ships,  lay  firmly  walled  in  the  ice  like  wrecks  run  aground. 
Along  the  Swedish  coast,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  were 
seen  moving,  one  by  one,  black  specks,  —  people  on  foot  and 
people  in  carriages,  who  were  visiting  the  neighbor  country. 

Such  a  broad  market-place,  several  miles  in  extent  on  the 

fields  of  ice  and  snow,  has  a  something  in  it  very  imposing, 

if  one  reflects  on  what  an  abyss  gapes  under  it  and  that  a 

itortn  and  the  altered  direction  of  the  current  might  destroy 

8 


114  ONLY  A  FIDDLER ! 

the  ice-covering  in  a  few  minutes.  But  as  the  vine-dresset 
plants  his  vines  in  the  hot  lava-soil,  and  sleeps  himself  un- 
fearingly  on  the  margin  of  the  abyss,  so  drives  the  peasant 
forth  over  the  ice,  consoled  by  the  reflection  that  his  life  is  in 
God's  hand. 

We  know  that  Peter  Vieck's  deceased  wife  was  a  Swede 
out  of  Malmo,  where  yet  her  connections  resided.  A  mariner 
whose  vessel  lies  frozen  up  has  not  much  to  do.  As  now, 
therefore,  the  road  to  Sweden  was  pretty  well  trodden,  and 
people  passed  daily  across,  Peter  Vieck  determined  to  pay  a 
visit  to  the  relatives  of  his  late  wife  in  Malmo,  and  that  Chris- 
tian should  accompany  him. 

During  the  forenoon  the  weather  was  favorable  for  their 
journey.  The  Sound  resembled  a  snow-plain ;  in  some 
places  the  wind  had  piled  up  the  snow  into  little  hillocks,  in 
others  the  polished  ice-surface  was  visible,  which  looked  like 
inland  lakes  between  mountains. 

' '  Now  comes  the  question,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  "  whether 
the  lid  will  hold  so  that  we  do  not  plump  down  into  the  pot 
where  neither  sun  nor  moon  shines.  But  we  are  children  of 
the  sea  —  we  shall  escape,  let  it  hold  or  break ! " 

They  had  proceeded  a  few  miles  from  the  coast  of  Zealand 
when  a  strong  wind  arose  and  dark  clouds  began  to  ascend  ; 
but  Peter  Vieck  was  vivacity  itself.  They  met  a  herd  of 
cattle,  the  driver  of  which  assured  them  that  the  ice  as  yet 
was  firm  and  safe,  but  that  later  in  the  day  there  would  be  a 
change  in  the  weather. 

"  Now,  that  would  be  capital  if  it  became  open  sea  whilst 
we  are  over -there!"  said  Peter  Vieck.  "It  may  be;  then 
we  shall  save  our  feet  and  come  swinging  back  again.  Here 
one  goes  crawling  along  like  a  fly  on  a  sugar-cask." 

The  air  became  darker  and  darker ;  a  few  snow-flakes  fell 
—  our  travellers  had  not  yet  made  half  the  distance.  All  at 
once  the  clouds  began  to  discharge  their  contents,  and  a  vio- 
lent snow-storm  commenced, 

"  Pull  your  handkerchief  over  your  ears ! "  said  Peter  Vieck  ; 
"  it  is  only  a  passing  storm." 

They  went  forward  ;  their  heads  held  down  in  order  to  de- 
fend themselves  against  the  whirling  snow.  High  above  then 
roared  the  wind  like  the  rushing  sails  of  a  mill. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


1*5 


"  Now  It  will,  however,  soon  lay  itself !  "  said  Peter  Vieck, 
glancing  round  in  the  air  and  standing  for  a  moment  still.  At 
that  moment  there  resounded  from  under  his  feet  a  report,  as 
if  the  largest  cannon  had  been  fired. 

"  As  long  as  it  cracks  it  will  bear,"  said  he,  seized  Chris- 
tian's hand,  and  sped  rapidly  forward.  "  We  must  go  in  a  di- 
rect line,  and  then  we  shall  hit  the  bridge  of  boats  at  Malmo 
to  a  hair.  To-day  it  foams  from  above !  "  said  he,  as  he 
blew  the  snow  away  from  him.  Again  there  was  a  report 
below  them  from  the  strong  currents,  which  made  rents  in  the 
ice,  yet  without  their  being  visible.  "  They  are  very  pretty 
cannon  which  they  have  down  below  there ! "  said  Peter 
Vieck ;  "  they  might  as  well  have  celebrated  the  queen's  birth- 
day with  them." 

For  a  moment  the  snow  somewhat  abated  ;  but  an  extraor- 
dinary sobbing  sound,  which  was  quite  different  from  that 
which  they  had  heard  before,  now  sounded  below  them.  It 
was  as  if  the  locked-up  depths  were  exerting  themselves  to 
breathe.  Peter  Vieck  stood  still,  and  cast  observant  glances 
toward  the  Swedish  coast. 

"  We  have  yet  gone  scarcely  half  way  across,"  said  he.  "  I 
fancy  that  we  shall  do  best  to-day  to  leave  Sweden  to  itself." 
He  stood  again  still  and  considered. 

As  a  sailor,  it  was  clear  to  him  that,  however  strong  the  ice 
might  be,  yet  that  with  the  altered  current  and  the  wind  in  the 
southeast,  as  it  now  was,  it  must  within  a  few  hours  break  up 
and  be  driven  toward  the  north.  An  occurrence  of  this  kind 
is  one  of  the  most  imposing  natural  scenes  which  our  country 
affords.  The  strength  of  the  ice  in  combat  with  the  strength 
of  the  currents  produces  great  effect,  more  especially  at  Hel- 
singor,  where  the  Sound  is  only  a  few  miles  across.  Immense 
masses  of  ice  press  themselves  together,  the  stream  lifts  them 
aloft,  and,  firmly  riveted  together,  the  floating  glass-like  rocks 
pile  themselves  one  upon  another  in  all  kinds  of  grotesque 
shapes.  The  whole  Sound  at  that  time  resembles  a  floating 
glacier. 

Yet  there  were  as  yet  no  visible  traces  of  such  a  scene  :  the 
signal  for  it  had  been  given  ;  the  submarine  war-horse  had 
consecrated  to  death  all  wanderers  above  him.  Again  the 


Il6  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

snow  fell.  Peter  Vieck  turned  round,  and  now  they  went  on 
quicker  than  before,  for  wind  and  snow  were  no  longer  against 
them.  All  at  once  there  sounded  close  behind  them  a  feeble 
but  thrilling  cry  of  anguish ;  he  looked  round  him,  and  only 
just  in  time  to  escape  being  run  over  by  a  light  sledge,  in 
which  four  persons  were  seated,  who  were  posting  on  at  full 
speed  in  the  direction  of  the  Sound  between  both  countries. 
Peter  Vieck  shouted  "  Holla  !  "  to  which  a  return  was  made, 
and  the  sledge  drew  up. 

A  Danish  gentleman,  who  seemed  to  be  of  rank,  sat  with 
his  servant  on  the  front  seat ;  two  ladies,  the  one  elderly  the 
other  quite  young,  occupied  the  principal  seat  in  the  sledge. 
The  younger  wept  aloud,  the  other  wrapped  herself  closely  in 
her  cloak. 

"  How  far  do  you  suppose  us  to  be  from  the  coast  of  Zea- 
land ?  "  asked  the  gentleman. 

"  Ten  or  twelve  miles,"  replied  Peter  Vieck.  "  But  if  the 
gentleman  drives  in  that  direction  it  will  take  a  long  time 
before  he  reaches  land.  That  direction  goes  directly  to 
Prussia.  Here  lies  Sweden,  there  Zealand !  "  said  he,  point- 
ing right  and  left  from  the  sledge. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ? "  asked  the  gentleman. 

"  I  have  the  compass  in  my  head,"  answered  Peter  Vieck. 

"  The  cursed  weather !  "  said  the  stranger.  "  The  air  was 
quite  clear  when  we  drove  from  Sweden !  We  are  certainly 
below  Hveen  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  Peter  Vieck ;  "  it  is  higher  up.  Will  you 
permit  me  to  be  your  helmsman  ?  And  it  will  not  do  either 
to  go  driving  on  at  a  gallop  ;  there  might  easily  come  a  little 
crack  in  the  way." 

"  Dear  captain,  is  it  you  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady  ;  "  do  you 
think  that  we  shall  get  alive  to  land  ?  " 

Peter  Vieck  looked  at  her ;  she  indeed  knew  him.  "  O 
yes,  gracious  lady,"  said  he,  "people  do  not  go  down  so 
easily :  if  people  only  use  their  eyes  there  is  no  danger.  Now, 
also,  it  begins  to  clear  up." 

The  lady  sighed  deeply.  It  was  the  well-known  gouvern- 
ante,  who  sailed  with  him  to  Copenhagen.  He  seized  the 
reins,  the  servant  dismounted,  and  Christian  took  his  place. 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER!  \  \  J 

The  stranger  gentleman  was  a  man  of  about  thirty  years  ;  his 
whole  behavior  showed  that  he  belonged  to  the  higher  ranks. 
Two  days  before  he  had  driven  with  his  foster-daughter  (so  he 
called  the  young  lady)  and  her  governess  over  to  Schonen, 
when  the  ice  was  strong  and  firm.  To-day  they  were  about 
to  return,  when  the  weather  suddenly  changed,  and  in  the 
snow-storm  they  had  lost  their  direction  and  were  driving 
toward  Amack  instead  of  Hveen. 

Now  again  the  train  set  itself  in  motion. 

Again  there  resounded  once  more  that  thrilling,  sobbing 
sound  below  them ;  the  covering  of  ice  raised  itself  slowly  up, 
and  then  slowly  sank  down  again.  The  horses  stood  still- 
Christian  prayed  to  God. 

"We  are  in  God's  hand,"  said  Peter  Vieck.  The  young 
girl  threw  her  arm  around  her  foster-father,  and  clung  convul- 
sively to  him. 

"It  is,  perhaps,  the  best  for  me  to  dismount,"  said  the 
gentleman. 

"  Ah,  no !  "  besought  the  daughter  ;  "  we  should  die  !  the 
ice  would  break  under  us ! "  She  tore  open  her  cloak  ;  pale 
as  death,  she  stared  wildly  forth  ;  her  raven  hair  slid  over  her 
pale  cheeks.  Christian  looked  at  her  :  it  was  indeed  Naomi, 
but  he  did  not  venture  to  speak  her  name  ;  the  surprise  made 
him  forget  the  danger. 

Now  again  bright  patches  showed  themselves  in  the  gray 
sky  ;  but  behind  them,  at  scarcely  a  hundred  paces'  distance, 
ascended  a  dark  stripe  with  every  kind  of  strange  branching, 
which  extended  itself  out  on  all  sides.  There  resounded  once 
more,  every  now  and  then,  before  them,  a  loud  lamenting  cry, 
which  seemed  to  proceed  neither  from  out  of  the  sea  nor  yet 
out  of  the  air.  People  talk  a  great  deal  about  the  sea-cow, 
which  sometimes  raises  itself  with  its  forefeet  out  of  the  water, 
and  sends  forth  that  longing  cry  in  the  direction  of  the  land 
where  the  animals  nearly  akin  to  it  graze,  and  to  which  it 
cannot  come. 

"  What  is  that  ? "  said  the  strange  gentleman,  as  he  gazed 
keenly  into  the  distance.  Peter  Vieck  was  silent. 

The  ice  heaved  itself  up  again,  and  the  snow  assumed  al- 
ready here  and  there  a  grayish  color  from  the  sea-water  which 
Woke  through. 


1 1 8  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  ! 

"  What  is  that  directly  before  us  ?  "  asked  Peter  Vieck,  as 
he  turned  the  horse  about  A  stake  stood  up  in  the  ice. 
"  Here,  certainly,"  said  he,  "  have  the  fishermen  cut  an  open 
ing,  for  that  seems  to  me  like  a  warning  signal." 

"  It  appears  to  me  as  if  I  saw  a  house,"  said  the  servant. 

"  We  cannot  here  be  upon  land,"  replied  Peter  Vieck,  half 
aloud. 

"  Holla  !  "  shouted  a  voice  just  before  them,  and  again  they 
heard  that  cry  of  distress  which  they  had  perceived  once 
already. 

Not  far  from  the  spot  where  they  had  halted  there  stood  a 
wooden  house,  which  was  half  buried  in  snow.  Here  had  the 
herdsman  stopped  with  his  young  cattle,  which  now  bellowed 
in  the  cold  air. 

"  What  sort  of  an  ark  is  it  that  you  have  set  up  here  ? " 
asked  Peter  Vieck ;  "  are  you  going  to  rest  here  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  cattle-driver ;  "  that  is  the  wisest  thing 
we  can  do.  Here  one  has  land  under  foot,  and  the  dear  God 
above  to  watch  over  us.  The  best  the  gentlefolks  could  do 
would  be  to  remain  here.  There,  indeed,  lies  the  farm." 

With  these  words  he  pointed  to  a  building  at  only  a  few 
paces'  distance,  which  resembled  a  peasant's  house. 

They  were  upon  that  little  flat  island  called  Saltholm,  of 
which,  in  winter,  only  the  highest  point  stands  above  water  j 
and  which,  on  account  of  the  excellent  hare-hunting,  is  indus- 
triously visited  by  sportsmen.  In  summer,  on  the  contrary, 
this  little  island  furnishes  good  pasturage,  on  which  account 
the  people  of  Amack  drive  thither  their  cattle.  During  the 
war-time  there  stood  there  a  small  building,  which  within  late 
years  has  been  increased  to  a  very  respectable  peasant's  farm, 
and  is  inhabited  by  an  entire  family. 

The  herdsman  told  them  of  a  man  who  had  lived  there 
through  the  winter,  as  watch  of  the  island,  but  now  he  was  not 
to  be  seen.  Probably  he  was  gone  to  Amack  or  Sweden,  and 
had  not  returned  early  enough.  The  house  was  empty. 

Our  little  caravan  halted  ;  the  forsaken  island  was  to  them 
a  haven  of  salvation  from  certain  destruction. 

Four  naked  walls,  shining  with  frozen  damp,  were  all  that 
the  interior  of  the  house  presented.  The  dwelling-roon 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  I  1 9 

served  also  as  kitchen.  In  one  corner  there  stood  upon  the 
paved  floor  a  miserable  unmade  bed,  which  they  soon  put 
away.  The  room,  however  repulsive  it  was,  contained  a  good 
stock  of  turf,  and  Peter  Vieck  lost  no  time  in  making  a  fire. 
The  cushions  of  the  sledge,  which  were  brought  in,  made  an 
excellent  divan. 

Thus  was  this  room  not  at  all  unlike  a  solitary  relais,  in 
which  the  travellers  over  the  Simplon  find  a  refuge  from 
snow-storms  and  tempests.  The  cold  was  severe  enough  for 
them  to  imagine  themselves  on  the  tops  of  the  mountains  ; 
and  if  the  travellers  cast  a  glance  through  the  window,  they 
saw  the  gray  snowy  air  upon  the  moving  ice-masses,  which  in 
strange  irregular  shapes  glided  down  the  stream,  and  all 
these  resembled  the  masses  of  cloud  which  float  along  on  the 
mountains. 

"  I  should  never  have  thought,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  jestingly, 
'  that  I  should  have  met  with  an  adventure  between  Zealand 
and  Schonen,  like  Albertus  Julius !  Does  the  gentleman 
know  the  book  ?  It  is  entitled  '  The  Wonderful  Fates  of  vari- 
ous Mariners.'  I  have  it  in  my  cabin.  Here  one  cannot  die 
of  hunger,  so  long  as  there  are  here  cows  and  calves ;  nor 
perish  of  thirst  either,  while  the  snow  lies  some  ells  thick. 
There  will  either  be  open  sea,  and  then  ships  will  come  by, 
or  else  the  broken  bridge  will  freeze  together  again,  so  that 
we  can  drive  over  it  to  Amack,  and  can  then  get  vegetables 
for  our  soup,  which  here  we  must  do  without." 

The  stranger  gentleman  —  the  Count,  as  the  gouvernante 
called  him  —  appeared  to  be  as  merry  as  the  lively  seaman  ; 
and  the  gouvernai;te  busied  herself  as  much  as  any  of  the 
rest,  in  making  ever)  thing  as  comfortable  as  possible.  They 
found  two  old  jugs  upon  a  shelf,  which  she  cleaned  in  the 
snow  ;  and  these  then  were  used  as  milking-pail  and  cooking' 
vessel.  The  herdsman  brought  in  fresh  milk,  and  cold  meat 
and  two  bottles  of  wine  were  fetched  out  of  the  sledge.  The 
fire  blazed  and  diffused  warmth,  whilst  the  window  rattled 
vith  the  wind,  and  the  snow  drove  in  in  its  circling  flight. 

Christian  was  most  zealous  to  lend  a  helping  hand  ;  he 
wrapped  Naomi,  who  had  not  perfectly  recovered  from  hei 
.ate  terror,  warmer  in  cloaks  and  in  the  covering  of  the 


I2O  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

sledge.  She  sat  there  like  a  marble  image,  and  fixed  upon 
him  her  large  beautiful  eyes,  which  showed  that  the  strongest 
fire  may  be  black. 

Peter  Vieck  crouched  before  the  chimney,  and  nodded  to 
the  gouvernante  with  a  friendly  look  as  to  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. 

"  We  are  better  off  now,"  said  he,  "  than  we  were  when  we 
were  last  together  on  the  sea,  even  though  we  had  then  real 
water  under  us.  At  that  time  Mamsell  looked  quite  wretched 
in  comparison  to  what  she  does  now.  We  are  better  off! 
Least  of  all  did  I  ever  think  that  we  should  so  soon  again 
meet  one  another  upon  the  sea." 

"On  land  we  are  not,  however,  so  very  far  asunder,"  re- 
plied she  ;  "  your  vessel  lies  exactly  opposite  to  our  window. 
I  see  you  almost  every  morning  walking  on  deck,  and  in  the 
evening  I  hear  your  violin." 

"  So  then  we  are  neighbors,  are  we,  in  the  harbor  ? "  said 
Peter  Vieck. 

"  Is  it  your  violin  that  I  have  heard  ? "  said  the  Count. 
"  You  are  indeed  a  most  original  performer  ;  they  seem  to  be 
fantasies  that  you  play.  I  have  been  several  times  your  silent 
auditor." 

"  Yes,  it  is  my  fiddle  that  you  have  heard,"  replied  Peter 
Vieck  ;  "  but  with  the  playing  of  fantasies  have  I  nothing  to 
do.  It  is  that  young  fellow  there  that  you  have  heard.  He 
does  not  know  any  one  piece  regularly ;  he  runs  from  one 
into  another.  It  is  what  I  call  a  Saturday  evening  dish, 
which  is  made  up  of  the  fragments  of  the  rest  of  the  week. 

"  Is  it  he  ? "  said  the  Count,  and  gazed  on  Christian  at  the 
same  time  with  a  sort  of  interest.  "There  is  genius  in  his 
performance.  You  should  have  chosen  the  musical  profes- 
sion, my  boy,"  said  he,  addressing  him  ;  "  and  then,  perhaps, 
you  might  have  made  your  fortune." 

"  Yes,  perhaps,"  said  Peter  Vieck ;  "  but  you  see,  sir,  when 
one  has  only  salt  and  bread  in  the  house,  it  avails  nothing 
that  one  beats  one's  brains  about  what  roast  tastes  the  best." 
And  then  he  related  in  his  own  way  how  the  boy  had  come 
Into  his  service. 

"  You  are  really  a  little  adventurer  !  "  said  the  Count  laugh- 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  12k' 

ing,  and  nodded  kindly  to  Christian  at  the  same  time.  Chiis- 
tian's  heart  beat  quicker  as  the  strange,  elegant-looking 
gentleman  gazed  at  him  so  searchingly  ;  but  although  the 
conversation  was  about  himself,  he  did  not  dare  even  to 
answer  one  single  word.  If  Naomi  would  only  have  said,  "  I 
know  him  ;  we  two  have  played  with  one  another  !  "  but  she 
remained  silent,  and  looked  at  him  with  her  black  eyes. 

The  supper  that  they  partook  was,  according  to  Peter 
Vieck's  opinion,  a  veritable  Michaelmas  festival. 

The  sun  descended,  and  gilded  with  its  red  beams  the 
edges  of  the  rent  clouds.  The  view  across  the  Sound  had  in 
it  something  out  of  the  common  way.  On  the  side  of  Zealand, 
the  entire  white  ice-surface  was  broken  up,  and  that  in  the 
most  various  directions.  The  appearance  was  that  of  an 
unpainted  map,  on  which  the  rivers,  the  mountains,  and  the 
political  boundaries,  are  only  indicated  by  black  lines  ;  an 
extraordinary  cracking  and  a  faint  movement  indicated  a 
change,  like  that  which  had  already  taken  place  on  the  Swed- 
ish coast.  Great  blocks  of  ice  were  here  pressed  together, 
which  formed  themselves  to  monstrous  glaciers,  and  then 
began,  upon  the  green  heaving  sea,  their  journey  into  the 
Northern  Ocean. 

The  icy  covering  also  between  Saltholm  and  Amack  rent 
itself  away,  and  drove  out  into  the  current. 

"  There  is  an  animal  upon  it !  "  cried  Naomi. 

It  was  a  poor  hare.  Distressed,  it  stood  upon  the  edge  of 
the  ice-island,  as  if  it  would  measure  the  distance  which  sep- 
arated it  from  the  firm  land.  But  farther  and  farther  it  was 
carried  from  the  shore  ;  it  was  its  death-ship  upon  which  it 
was  sailing. 

"  How  it  leaps  in  order  to  reach  the  land  ! "  said  Naomi : 
"  how  droll  it  is  to  see  it ! "  In  safety  herself,  she  smiled  at 
the  danger  of  the  poor  creature,  like  the  Spanish  lady  who 
leans  over  the  balustrade  of  the  arena. 

In  the  house,  in  the  mean  time,  everything  was  arranged  in 
the  best  manner  for  the  night.  Naomi  and  the  gouvernante 
had  each  of  them  a  cushion  for  a  bed.  The  men  were  obliged 
to  be  contented  with  things  as  they  could  get  them.  The 
herdsman  remained  outside,  where  he  bedded  himself  warmly 


122  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  f 

among  his  co\v&,  and  drawing  his  cap  over  his  eyes  dreamed 
royally,  like  Pharaoh,  about  fat  and  lean  kine.  The  Count 
returned  from  an  evening  ramble.  All  were  soon  asleep, 
excepting  Christian,  whose  duty  it  was  to  mind  the  fire  that  it 
might  not  go  out. 

"  Will  not  you  also  go  to  sleep,  my  boy  ? "  asked  the 
Count. 

"  I  cannot,"  replied  he,  still  gazing  fixedly  at  the  pictures 
which  his  fancy  created  for  him  out  of  the  hot  ashes.  Thus 
had  the  house  burned,  when  Naomi  was  carried  out  of  the 
window  !  Thus  had  the  poplar  and  the  stork's  nest  blazed 
on  that  night !  He  remembered  still  every  circumstance,  as 
if  it  had  happened  only  yesterday ;  and  Naomi  had  so  entirely 
forgotten  the  whole  !  She  had  not  betrayed  by  a  single  word 
that  they  were  known  to  each  other  !  And  yet  their  eyes  met 
again,  as  at  the  time  when  they  had  played  together.  "  Dost 
thou  no  longer  know  me  ?  "  he  would  have  said,  as  she  bade 
him  good-night,  but  the  words  died  upon  his  lips.  And  yet 
she  knew  him ;  her  thoughts  had  dwelt  upon  all  the  little 
occurrences  which  he  so  vividly  recalled  !  She  remembered 
very  well  that  they  had  sat  by  one  another  upon  the  tall  stone 
steps,  and  that  he  had  brought  to  her  there  leaves  and  flowers, 
and  had  kissed  her  mouth  and  cheeks.  But  now  he  was  a 
poor  sailor-boy. 

The  Count  drew  nearer  to  him. 

"  And  so,  then,  it  is  you  who,  in  an  evening,  play  in  the 
dark  cabin !  Which  do  you  like  best,  sea-service  or  music  ? " 

"  Music,"  replied  Christian,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Very  good  !  And  if  you  are  possessed  of  genius  you  will 
work  yourself  upward.  Do  not  grieve  that  you  are  a  poor 
boy !  —  most  great  artists  have  been  so  too !  But  do  not 
become  proud  when  you  may,  perhaps,  ascend  up  to  their 
height.  When  thousands  applaud  you,  you  may  easily  be- 
come intoxicated.  Certainly !  "  added  he  then,  in  a  graver 
tone,  "  a  man  must  be  possessed  of  great  genius  in  order  to 
raise  himself  out  of  the  condition  of  poverty  to  honor  and 
renown,  and  he  has  also  much  to  learn." 

"  Ah,  I  would  do  everything  !  "  exclaimed  Christian  • 
u  everything  which  might  be  required  from  me ! " 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  123 

The  conversation  seemed  to  amuse  the  Count.  He  told 
Christian  about  distinguished  artists  ;  how  hard  their  lot  had 
often  been,  and  how  so  many  of  them  had  never  been  happy 
in  their  life,  and  had  never  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  their 
talents  acknowledged.  Christian  listened,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  his  own  fate  stood  before  his  eyes. 

"  Ah,  dear  sir,"  said  he,  and  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes, 
"  I  have  nobody  in  the  whole  city  who  can  help  me.  Yet 
how  gladly  would  I  learn  music !  O,  I  would  think  night  and 
day  upon  that  which  people  would  tell  me  !  "  And  he  related 
to  the  Count  about  his  home,  and  described  to  him  his  wholly 
helpless  condition. 

The  Count  looked  compassionately  on  him.  and  Christian 
pressed  the  hand  of  the  kind  gentleman  to  his  lips,  wetted  it 
with  his  tears,  and  besought  him  to  let  him  be  his  servant. 
He  would  clean  his  boots  and  shoes,  run  errands  for  him,  or 
whatever  else  it  might  be,  if  he  would  only  assist  him,  so  that 
he  might  be  able  to  learn  what  was  necessary,  that,  at  length, 
he  might  become  such  an  artist  as  those  of  whom  he  had  told 
him. 

"  Yet,  my  good  youth,"  said  the  Count,  "  that  is  not  so  easy 
as  you  fancy  it  to  be.  Besides  this,  you  must  also  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  great  deal  of  genius  ;  and  whether  that  is  the  case 
or  no,  time  can  only  prove.  You  MUST  NEVER  FORGET  THAT 
YOU  ARE  A  POOR  CHILD  !  If  you  are  possessed  of  real  genius 
it  will  make  for  itself  a  track,  though  you  may  have  to  buffet 
about  on  the  sea  for  yet  another  long  year.  Per  aspera  ad 
astro, !  Adversity  purifies.  If  it  be  so  that  anything  is  to 
come  out  of  you,  a  higher  Power  will  help  you  ;  that  you  may 
of  a  surety  believe  !  I,  alas  !  can  do  nothing  for  you  ;  I  have 
so  many  others  to  care  for." 

With  these  words  he  drew  out  his  purse  and  gave  the  boy 
a  silver  dollar,  repeating  at  the  same  time  the  consoling  assur- 
ance that  real  talent  always  made  for  itself  a  way.  He  then 
folded  his  cloak  more  closely  about  him,  and  leaned  his  head 
on  the  wall  in  order  to  sleep. 

Those  were  Icarus-wings  which  he  fixed  upon  the  shoulders 
of  Genius  —  boldly  formed  wings  ,  but  they  were  of  lead, 
rtis  words,  however,  were  the  old  theme,  which  from  gener* 


124 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 


tion  to  generation  has  sounded  in  the  ears  of  Genius,  and 
which  will  yet,  for  centuries  to  come,  be  variously  sounded  as 
long  as  the  world  remains  the  same  as  that  which  gave  the 
poison-cup  to  Socrates  and  to  Christ  the  crown  of  thorns. 

It  was  not  until  toward  morning  that  Christian  fell  into  a 
sleep,  but  Peter  Vieck  soon  awoke  him  again  by  the  an- 
nouncement that  the  wind  had  turned  about,  that  the  ice  was 
again  frozen  together,  and  that  they  must  avail  themselves  of 
the  favorable  moment  to  reach  the  island  Amack.  The 
sledge  was  harnessed,  and  all  was  put  in  order  for  their  depart- 
ure. The  herdsman  drove  on  his  cattle  in  advance,  because 
wherever  the  heavy-footed  animals  could  go  the  ice  would  be 
able  to  support  the  light  sledge  with  the  gouvernante  and 
Naomi. 

The  procession  set  out.  The  ice  cracked  around  them. 
They  were  often  obliged  to  make  a  circuit,  to  escape  the  gap- 
ing chasms  ;  in  other  places  the  water  stood  upon  the  ice,  and 
this  they  had  to  ford.  Naomi  closed  her  eyes  for  terror. 

"  We  are  sinking !  "  said  she  to  Christian,  who  was  placed 
behind  on  the  sledge. 

"  O  no !  God  will  not  permit  us  to  die  !  "  replied  he. 

The  sledge  rolled  several  times  here  and  there  ;  the  ice 
moved  up  and  down,  and  the  horses  dashed  the  water  high  in 
the  air  with  their  hoofs.  Naomi  seized  Christian's  arm  and 
endeavored  to  hold  herself  firmly  against  him  ;  the  gouvern- 
ante leaned  against  the  other  side  of  the  sledge.  At  length 
they  gained  the  firmer  ice. 

"  Now  we  are  again  upon  the  new  road,"  said  Peter  Vieck  ; 
"  there  will  not  be  an  elegy  written  about  us,  unless  it  be  that 
which  I  myself  should  make  ;  yet  that  is  not  my  own  handi- 
work. I  have  only  once  made  an  epitaph  on  a  dear  friend, 
and  that  stands  in  Holm  church-yard,  and  runs  shortly  thus :  — 

"  '  1801,  stood  he,  and  remained  standing ; 
1807,  lay  he,  and  remained  lying.'  " 

u  Dost  thou,  then,  no  longer  remember  me  ?  "  asked  Chris- 
tian of  Naomi,  as  they  approached  ever  nearer  to  the  church 
of  Amack,  where  they  would  have  to  separate. 

"  Yes  !  "  replied  she,  in  a  voice  as  low  as  that  in  which  the 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  \  125 

question  was  asked  :  "  thou  earnest  into  the  saloon  on  my 
birthday !  " 

"  But  in  Svendborg  ?  "  asked  he  again. 

"  Yes,  there  !  "  said  she  ;  "  yes,  I  remember  that  very  well : 
that  is  a  long  time  ago  !  " 

She  turned  herself  quickly  to  the  gouvernante.  "  We  shall 
now  be  soon  on  land  !  You  do  not  talk  to  me  !  Ha  1  how 
cold  it  is  though  !  "  She  hid  her  face  in  her  shawl. 

Christian  dismounted  and  walked  behind  the  sledge.  With- 
out being  able  to  explain  to  himself  the  reason  of  it,  he  felt 
himself  deeply  humiliated.  Willingly  would  he  have  laid 
himself  down  to  sleep  here  on  the  ice,  like  the  Seven  Sleepers, 
to  slumber  for  many  years. 

They  now  saw  people  on  the  coast,  and  soon  every  danger 
and  all  fear  were  over. 

They  halted.     The  Count  offered  Peter  Vieck  money. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  captain,  "  you  were  not  in  my  vessel. 
Had  there  been  anything  to  pay,  I  and  the  lad  have  had  its 
worth,  in  the  honor  of  being  in  such  high  company." 

The  gouvernante  offered  her  hand  to  the  lively  captain,  and 
Naomi  followed  her  example  and  that  of  the  Count.  Chris- 
tian stood  silently,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  saw  his  play- 
fellow roll  elegantly  away  into  the  world. 

"  We  travel  behind  on  our  boot-soles,"  said  Peter  Vieck. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  We  were  children,  two  small  and  happy  children  :  the  childish  play 
is  now  over,  and  all  whirls  by  us."  —  H.  HEINE. 

IT  is  only  of  late  years  that  our  eyes  have  become  intimate 
with  the  beautiful  view  of  the  horse  in  his  natural  beauty 
upon  the  race-ground.  We  have  presented  to  us  in  this  a 
picture  of  the  wild  flight  of  these  animals  through  the  deserts. 
One  of  the  most  striking  descriptions  of  this  creature  in  his 
natural  condition  is  given  us  by  Washington  Irving,  in  his 
Tour  through  the  Prairies.  He  leads  us  through  the  dark 
primeval  forests  where  wild  vines  throw  themselves  from  tree 
to  tree,  and  form  fences  of  many  miles  long  ;  from  these  we 
gaze  across  the  immense  plains,  upon  which  the  grass  waves 
like  the  billows  of  the  sea,  and  the  wild  horses  career  in  great 
hordes  over  the  plain  with  flying  manes,  fiery  eyes,  and  the 
boldest  action.  The  wish  that  they  should  forever  remain  in 
this  condition  of  wildness  forces  itself  upon  the  mind.  But 
the  hunter  throws  his  noose  around  the  proud,  fine  creature, 
and  it  lifts  itself  with  its  whole  strength  to  tear  itself  loose  ; 
yet  the  stronger  hand  holds  it  fast :  the  first  lash  of  the  whip 
falls  upon  the  back  of  the  captive  animal,  and,  foaming  and 
steaming,  it  strives  yet  once  more  with  its  whole  strength  to 
release  itself:  but  in  vain  !  It  throws  itself  as  if  dead  upon 
the  earth  ;  a  new  blow  of  the  whip  falls,  patiently  it  stands 
up,  and,  bound  with  cords,  follows  the  pack-horse.  The  king 
of  the  desert  is  now  become  a  slave. 

There  is  something  melancholy  in  this  occurrence.  From 
the  wild  steed  of  the  desert  to  the  miserable  beast  of  burden, 
which  crawls  wearily  along  with  the  peasant's  cart,  there  is  a 
great  leap.  But  yet  the  race  is  the  same  —  the  most  brilliant 
beginning  may  be  followed  by  such  an  end.  What  animal 
has,  in  the  changes  of  his  fate,  so  much  in  common  with  ma« 


ONLY   4  FIDDLER! 

as  the  horse  ?  The  most  beautiful  horse  that  once  bore  a 
king,  which  was  caressed  by  his  all-powerful  right  hand  and 
was  tended  with  the  utmost  care,  sank  through  some  little  fault 
to  be  the  horse  of  a  soldier,  and  ended  as  a  wretched  hack 
fastened  to  the  cart  of  the  executioner. 

Penetrated  by  such  contemplations,  our  pensive  state  of 
feeling  is  excited  almost  to  mutiny  when  we  go  in  clear  frosty 
weather,  and  by  moonlight,  when  the  earth  is  covered  with 
firm  and  glittering  snow,  into  the  great  square  in  Copenhagen, 
which  bears  the  name  of  the  King's  Market.  Round  about 
the  equestrian  statue  of  the  king,  where  the  colossal  bronze 
figures  are  seated,  drive  along  crowds  of  hired  sledges. 
Street-boys  and  people  of  the  very  lowest  class  pay  here  their 
penny  that  they  may  twice  drive  round  the  Horse,  as  they  call 
the  monument.  These  sledges  have  a  wretched  appearance, 
but  yet  much  more  wretched  is  the  horse  that  draws  them. 
If  the  hackney-coachman  can  no  longer  use  his  horse  to  draw 
a  heavy  carriage,  he  harnesses  it  to  a  sledge,  and  now  the 
whip  drives  on  the  half-starved  beast,  until  bathed  in  sweat  it 
returns  back  and  stands  in  the  bitterest  cold  to  rest,  until  a 
new  driver  sets  it  in  motion.  Not  unfrequently  it  here  ends 
its  life  of  torment,  and  that  is  certainly  the  best  happiness 
which  one  can  wish  for  the  poor  animal. 

It  was  in  the  evening  when  these  penny  sledges  were  driv- 
ing about,  the  bells  ringing,  the  whips  cracking,  and  the  cry 
of  exultation  resounding  through  the  King's  new  Market- 
place. Most  of  the  foot-passengers  avoided  the  tumultuous 
pleasures  of  the  people  ;  only  a  very  few  ventured  to  go 
across  the  wild  course,  which  run  in  circles  and  ellipses 
around  the  monument.  To  the  last  number  belonged  a  gen- 
tleman in  a  large  blue  cloak ;  it  was  the  Count.  He  had 
already,  without  accident,  passed  several  sledges  ;  but  now 
came  another,  in  which  sat  two  sailors  and  a  ship-boy,  and 
which  drove  up  directly  toward  him.  He  stopped,  in  order  to 
let  the  wild  men  drive  past  him  ;  the  horse  came  so  close 
upon  him  as  to  sprinkle  him  over  with  its  foam  ;  it  then  fell 
suddenly  to  the  earth,  groaned  a  few  times,  opened  wide  rts 
eyes,  and  lay  dead  on  the  spot.  People  crowded  round  the 
sledge  ;  the  hackney-coachmen  came  in  with  their  whips. 


128  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  ! 

"  It  was  Oddity  which  laid  him  down  Uere  to  rest ! "  said 
they ;  "  it's  all  up  with  him  now." 

The  name  "  Oddity  "  called  a  past  time  back  to  the  Count's 
remembrance.  In  lively  recollection  stood  before  him  the  old 
family-seat,  where  his  mother  was  an  enthusiast  for  the  novels 
of  LaFontaine.  The  beautiful  foal  was  therefore  called  after 
the  Oddity,  and  the  young  Count  received  it  on  his  birthday 
as  a  present.  It  was  a  proud,  a  glorious  animal !  When  the 
Count  rode  him  through  the  streets,  all  the  people  in  Svend- 
borg  came  to  their  windows,  and  horse  and  rider  won  equally 
great  applause.  The  handsome  Sara,  the  Jew's  daughter, 
clapped  her  beautiful  hands ;  and  the  animal  was  very  fond  of 
the  gouvernante  —  so  was  she  called  at  the  Hall.  It  neighed 
when  it  was  caressed  by  her  ;  but  the  rider  was  fonder  still  of 
the  handsome  gouvernante,  and  for  that  reason  she  was 
obliged  to  leave  the  Hall.  That  was  a  very  sad  history ! 
When  the  young  Count  afterward  travelled  abroad,  the  fortu- 
nate star  of  "  Oddity  "  began  to  descend ;  he  was  sold  at  St. 
Knud's  fair. 

Could  it,  must  it  not,  be  the  self-same  animal  which  here, 
famished  and  tortured  to  death,  lay  before  him  ?  All  these 
thoughts  were  excited,  as  by  a  spark  of  remembrance,  in  the 
Count's  soul,  at  the  mention  of  the  horse's  name !  This  name 
was  the  only  thing  which  was  remaining  to  him  out  of  happier 
days.  He  stayed  longer  in  the  crowd  than  he  otherwise 
would  have  done,  and  scarcely  remarked  the  misfortune  which 
had  happened  so  near  to  him.  The  ship-boy  who  had  been 
seated  in  the  sledge  had  certainly  been  injured  in  the  fall ;  he 
was  carried  into  the  house  of  a  surgeon. 

We  will  leave  this  cold  evening  scene,  and,  with  the  Count, 
enter  his  comfortable  house,  which  lies  directly  opposite  to 
Peter  Vieck's  ship,  with  its  snow-covered  cordage.  Warm  air 
laden  with  perfume  streamed  out  as  he  entered  the  room, 
which  was  illumined  with  wax-lights  in  silver  candlesticks,  and 
the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  soft,  elastic  carpets.  Pic- 
tures by  Juul  and  Gebauer  adorned  the  walls  ;  two  p'aster-of- 
Paris  figures  —  the  one  the  "  Dying  Gladiator,"  the  other  the 
M  Roman  Boy  taking  a  thorn  out  of  his  foot "  —  stood  one  or 
each  side  of  the  elegant  book-case,  in  which  only  famous  au> 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  I  29 

thors  found  place ,  that  is  to  say,  Goethe,  Racine,  Swift  —  not 
a  single  Danish  book.  Similar  show-libraries  we  often  find 
in  the  apartments  of  our  so-called  higher  ranks :  they  are 
meant  to  indicate  taste,  yet  the  first  conversation  not  unfre- 
quently  betrays  something  wholly  different.  That  near  to 
them,  also,  a  row  of  annuals  was  arranged,  did  not  make  the 
most  advantageous  impression.  The  entrance  into  the  next 
room  was  not  by  a  door ;  it  was  hung  with  curtains  in  an  Orien- 
tal manner,  which  were  drawn  aside.  This  room  was  smaller ; 
twining  plants  hung  down  from  the  pyramids  between  the 
damask  curtains,  and  hyacinths  of  all  colors  sent  forth  their 
odor.  At  the  tea-table,  at  which  the  gouvernante  presided, 
sat  Naomi  and  an  elderly  gentleman ;  it  was  a  chamberlain. 
Thorwaldsen,  at  that  time,  had  begun  to  obtain  a  European 
celebrity ;  the  chamberlain  spoke  about  him. 

"  I  knew  him,"  said  he,  "  when  I  was  advanced  to  Kammei- 
junker  ;  then  he  was  nobody.  But  he  is  possessed  of  genius, 
and  the  newspapers  speak  of  him :  yes,  by  Heaven  !  I  read 
his  name  in  the  '  Journal  des  Debats ! '  The  man  gets 
cdlebre,  but  to  the  king's  table  he  never  can  come  ;  he  is  not 
a  states-counselor ! " 

Upon  a  side-table  lay  fine  copperplate  engravings  and 
landscapes ;  they  were  nearly  all  Italian  scenes  which  the 
Count  had  visited. 

"  Magnifique  /  magnifique  /  "  cried  the  chamberlain.  "  That 
is  Genoa  !  There  I  was  seven-and-twenty  years  ago.  There 
are  beautiful  ladies  there  !  And  in  Bologna !  Ah  yes !  the 
Bolognese  ladies  are  charming !  What  eyes  ! "  — 

The  gouvernante  cast  down  hers.  The  chamberlain  said, 
half  aloud,  "  Glorious  ladies  1  it  is  for  them  that  we  travel  in 
foreign  countries  !  " 

The  Count  now  related  how  very  nearly  he  had  been  run 
over  this  evening,  and  how  a  poor  lad  certainly  had  met  with 
an  injury,  —  "  That  little  musical  genius,"  added  he. 

"  He  has  given  a  concert  here,  in  this  house,"  said  Naomi, 
smiling.  "  The  servants  allowed  him  to  come  to  them  ;  he 
played,  and  the  people  applauded :  but  the  coachman,  Hans, 
was  witty,  and  hung  an  onion  round  his  neck  as  an  order. 
That  he  thought  was  ridiculing  him,  and  the  tears  came  into 
9 


130  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

his  eyes.    With  that  came  Elise,  told  the  gouvernante,  and  all 
was  restored  again  to  dutiful  respect" 

"  The  poor  boy  !  "  said  the  Count ;  "  now  they  will  take 
him  to  the  hospital." 

"  That  will  not  be  the  case,  Count,"  said  the  gouvernante, 
"  because  I  can  now  hear  him  playing.     It  is  exactly  the  same 
music  as  we  are  accustomed  to  hear." 
A  servant  was  called. 

"  Go  and  inquire  who  it  is  that  we  hear  playing ;  and  ask, 
also,  if  the  little  ship-boy  received  any  injury  in  the  sledg- 
ing?" 

The  servant  soon  returned  with  the  intelligence  that  the  boy 
had  sprained  his  leg  by  the  overturning  of  the  sledge,  but 
was  soon  again  restored,  and  now  waited  commands  with  his 
fiddle  before  the  Count's  door. 

"  Nay,  that  was  not  my  meaning !  "  said  the  Count.  "  It  is 
well,  however,  that  he  has  received  no  injury." 

"  Shall  we  not  see  the  little  work  of  art  ? "  said  the  chamber- 
lain. "  Miss  Naomi  says,  with  her  beautiful  eyes,  that  she 
will  encourage  the  young  artist." 

The  Count  smiled,  and  a  moment  afterwards,  Christian, 
who  had  modestly  taken  off  his  shoes,  stood  in  his  stockings, 
holding  his  fiddle  on  his  back,  in  the  brilliantly  lighted  apart- 
ment. How  warm  and  fragrant,  how  rich  and  glorious,  was 
everything  which  he  saw  here !  Flowers  and  Naomi  were 
here,  as  in  the  Jew's  garden,  when  he  crept  in  through  the 
hole  in  the  wall.  She  would  hear  him  play !  He  trembled 
with  delight ! 

At  that  moment  an  elegant  gentleman,  of  a  tall,  thin  figure, 
and  severe  bearing,  entered  the  room.  He  looked  down  upon 
Christian  with  a  dark  expression,  as  if  he  would  ask,  "  What 
has  that  poor  boy  to  do  here  ? " 

"  That  is  a  little  musical  genius,"  said  the  Count ;  and  now 
related  to  the  stranger  gentleman  that  which  had  this  evening 
occurred,  and  the  acquaintance  with  the  boy. 

The  stranger  looked  yet  more  sternly  at  him,  whilst  the 
Count  cut  short  the  affair  by  saying  that  he  would  hear  him 
another  time.  Again  a  silver  dollar  was  put  into  his  hand, 
but,  only  half  made  happy  by  it,  he  left  the  magnificent  apart' 
ment. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

The  servant  led  him  into  the  maid-servants'  room,  and  now, 
as  yesterday,  he  must  again  play  before  the  domestics.  All 
kinds  of  witticisms  were  passed  off  against  him,  but  yet  his 
vanity  was  flattered  too,  and  here  also  he  received  money. 
Very  much  pleased,  he  descended  the  steps.  The  grave 
gentleman  with  the  severe  countenance  met  him. 

"  They  really  are  making  fun  of  thee !  "  was  all  that  he  said, 
and  these  words  fell  like  poison  into  Christian's  cup  of  joy. 

On  board,  Peter  Vieck  received  him  with  a  wrathful 
countenance. 

"Where,  in  the  name  of  all  the  devils,  are  you  flying 
about  ? "  asked  he.  "  Are  you  become  city  musician  ?  Down 
there  below,  in  the  little  room,  you  can  fiddle,  but  not  before 
the  lick-spittles,  else  it  will  go  with  a  puff!  Do  you  under- 
stand Peter  Vieck  ? " 

Silent  and  dejected  the  boy  stole  below,  down  to  his  little 
cabin. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

*Blum.—  Well,  is  she  there  ? 

Brand. —  The  fairy-queen,  —  yes,  truly  the  fairy-queen." 

The  Suffering  Woman,  by  LlNZ. 

"  Prie  !  pour  les  vierges  viole*es, 
Pour  le  prisonnier  dans  sa  tour, 
Pour  les  femmes  e"chevelees 
Qui  vendent  le  doux  nom  d'amour  !  " 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

EXTREMES  resemble  the  points  of  a  circle  which  lie  the 
widest  one  from  another. 

By  the  grave  of  one  dear  to  us,  we  believe  most  certainly  on 
immortality. 

Precisely  at  the  moment  when  reality  laid  a  destroying  hand 
on  all  Christian's  hopes,  his  faith  grew  with  every  passing  day. 
Every  artist  of  whom  the  Count  had  told  him  on  Saltholm 
haunted  his  brain. 

He  had  this  winter  read  two  books,  —  Albertus  Julius  and 
the  Old  Testament.  Both  of  them  were  the  words  of  infallible 
truth,  and  in  both  of  them  was  the  struggle  against  difficulties 
rewarded  by  happy  consequences.  Albertus  Julius  found  hap- 
piness upon  his  rocky  island ;  the  biblical  history  which  was, 
indeed,  the  word  of  the  Lord,  gave  him  the  same  consolation. 
The  shepherd-boy,  the  poor  David,  was  the  king  of  Israel ; 
Job  received  again  his  health ;  the  wicked  Haman  came  to  the 
gallows,  whilst  Esther  bore  the  golden  crown  on  her  head  by 
the  side  of  her  royal  lord. 

"  True  genius  always  makes  for  itself  a  way !  "  had  the 
Count  said.  "  Good  God  1 "  prayed  Christian,  with  childish 
mind,  "  give  to  me  true  genius !  I  will  only  make  use  of  it 
for  Thy  honor." 

For  hours  would  he  gaze  in  the  star-bright  evenings,  full  of 
devotion  and  confidence,  to  the  brilliant  lights  in  heaven.  The 
istrologers  believed  that  the  stars  of  heaven  had  an  influence 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  133 

upon  the  fate  of  men.  This  faith  is  now  lost,  and  it  is  only 
the  star  upon  the  human  breast  which  is  possessed  of  such  a 
power.  Christian  hoped  for  help  from  both  of  them,  from  the 
stars  there  above  and  from  the  star  upon  the  Count's  breast, 
which  shone  just  as  splendidly.  But,  ah !  no  help  came. 

One  evening  he  sat  thus  sunk  in  thought  in  his  dark  cabin 
until  he  slept.  He  then  dreamed  of  the  good  lady  Steffen-Mar- 
garet,  who  has  been  wholly  forgotten  by  us.  It  seemed  to  him 
as  if  she  led  him  by  the  hand  over  a  dry  desert,  in  which  the 
earth  was  rent  into  great  chasms,  so  that  they  were,  at  ever) 
step,  in  danger  of  falling  in.  They  entered  into  a  beautiful, 
blooming  garden,  where  all  was  music  and  pure  delight ;  and 
she  gave  him  a  silver  fiddle.  As  he  drew  the  bow  across  the 
strings,  it  overpowered  all  other  instruments  ;  the  loud  sound 
seemed  to  awaken  him,  and  he  found  consolation  and  peace 
of  mind  in  his  dream.  She  whose  image  the  Count  had  dispos- 
sessed, now  stood  like  a  good  angel  before  his  soul.  It  is  true 
that  she  had  not,  like  the  Count,  given  him  money,  but,  more 
friendly  still,  she  had  extended  to  him  her  hand,  and  had 
looked  kindly  into  his  eyes.  He  was  most  strangely  affected,  as 
he  heard  at  that  same  moment  a  voice  on  the  cabin  steps,  which 
was  just  like  hers.  She,  perhaps,  would  already  present  her- 
self as  a  powerful  fairy  to  conduct  him  to  happiness.  He 
would  have  rushed  toward  her,  but  she  came  not  alone  ;  a 
sailor  accompanied  her,  and  inquired  aloud,  on  entering,  if 
there  were  any  one  there.  But  a  strange  feeling  of  distress 
fettered  Christian's  tongue,  and  he  remained  silent. 

"  What  have  you  got  to  say  to  me  ?  "  asked  the  sailor. 

"  It  depends  upon  you,"  replied  she,  "  whether  body  and 
soul  shall  go  to  eternal  perdition." 

"  Are  you  all  at  once  become  a  saint  ?  "  asked  the  seaman, 
smiling. 

"  I  must  tell  you  everything  which  I  have  upon  my  mind," 
said  she,  in  a  broken  voice.  Christian  listened  attentively, 
for  now  he  thought  certainly  that  she  was  about  to  speak  of, 
himself. 

We  will  not  turn  our  ear  from  the  conversation  of  these 
two,  who  believed  themselves  to  be  alone,  nor  is  there  any 
need  that  we  should  do  so.  When  we  see  in  our  garden 


134 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


walks  one  of  those  large  frogs  of  which  the  repulsive  exterior 
is  disgusting  to  us,  we  draw  back  with  abhorrence  from  the 
ugly  animal;  but  if  this  same  creature  be  pursued  by  an  enemy, 
and  utters  its  monotonous  cry  of  distress,  our  repugnance  is 
changed  into  compassion.  How  much  stronger,  then,  must  this 
sentiment  be  when  the  creature  is  one  of  our  own  species 
Do  not  turn  thine  eyes  away,  because  I  will  not  conduct  thee 
into  a  row  of  dancing  odalisks  in  the  shadow  of  the  palm- 
trees,  by  the  swelling  shores  of  the  Ganges,  to  show  thee  the 
image  of  such  a  fellow-being.  Do  not  turn  thine  eyes  away 
because  I  lead  thee  into  the  narrow  cabin  of  a  trading-vessel, 
not  into  the  splendid  court  where  counts  and  dukes  long  after 
one  glance  from  the  royal  mistress.  It  is  crime  in  its  lowest 
estate,  because  poverty  is  its  lot,  that  I  will  present  to  thee. 
Not  in  gold  and  silver  shalt  thou  see  it,  but  in  its  misery ;  see 
how  it  resembles  the  basilisk,  which  sees  itself  in  the  glass  and 
rends  every  nerve.  Most  tragical  is  it  to  see  the  human  nat- 
ure humiliated  to  that  of  the  beast,  and  how  it,  for  the  first 
time  in  its  downward  course,  becomes  aware  that  it  was  once 
the  image  of  God  upon  earth.  Hail  to  thee  who  art  possessed 
of  a  home,  who  hast  never  been  forsaken  by  Modesty !  Thus 
happy  was  not  this  poor 'being  ! 

What  poison  can  the  sweet  words  of  man  distill  into  the 
heart  of  woman  !  Had  you,  twelve  years  ago,  seen  the  slen- 
der maiden  of  sixteen  with  her  eyes  beaming  with  pure  life 
enjoyment,  you  would  have  thought  on  Semele  —  on  her  who 
waited  for  Jupiter  in  all  his  glory,  and  when  the  beloved  one 
appeared,  not  as  a  sun  to  warm,  but  as  a  consuming  fire,  she 
became  ashes  in  his  arms  —  the  image  of  beauty  was  dust 
and  earth  ! 

We  believe  no  longer  in  ghosts  ;  we  believe  no  longer  that 
the  dead  in  their  white  garments  appear  to  the  living  at  the 
hour  of  midnight.  We  see  them  yet  in  the  great  cities.  By 
moonlight,  when  the  cold  north  wind  passes  over  the  snow, 
and  we  wrap  ourselves  closer  in  our  cloaks,  we  see  white-gar 
mented  female  beings  in  light  summer-dresses,  beckoning, 
float  past  us.  The  poisonous  atmosphere  of  the  grave  breathes 
from  these  figures  :  trust  not  the  roses  on  their  cheeks,  for  the 
death's  head  is  painted  ;  their  smiles  are  the  smiles  of  despair 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  135 

or  of  intoxication.  They  are  dead,  are  more  horribly  dead 
than  our  deceased  ones.  The  soul  is  interred  ;  the  bodies  go 
like  evil  spirits  hither  and  thither,  seeking  for  human  blood 
like  the  vampire,  that  they  may  nourish  themselves  thereby. 
They  therefore  hang  even  upon  the  poorest  man,  upon  the 
coarsest  churl,  on  those  from  whom  even  men  draw  back. 
They  are  horrible,  unhappy  ghosts,  which  do  not  descend  into 
their  graves  with  the  morning  twilight.  No,  for  then  they  are 
followed  home  by  the  dreams  of  despair,  which  sit  like  night- 
mares on  their  breasts,  and  sing  to  them  of  the  scorn  of  men 
and  of  a  better  life  here  on  earth  —  and  tears  stream  down  the 
painted  cheeks.  To  chase  away  the  dreams,  they  seize  upon 
the  cup,  and  the  poisoned  stamp  of  death  stands  the  next  night, 
when  they  go  forth,  yet  more  deeply  impressed  on  their  coun- 
tenances. 

"  Save  me  !  I  am  yet  only  half  dead  !  There  are  moments 
in  which  I  still  feel  that  I  have  yet  a  soul  living  within  me  ! " 
is  oftentimes  the  cry  of  such  an  unhappy  being ;  but  every 
one  flies  away  horrified  who  hears  the  voice  out  of  the  grave, 
and  she,  the  half-dead  one,  has  no  longer  strength  to  throw 
from  her  the  coffin-lid  of  her  circumstances  and  the  heavy 
earth  of  sin. 

"  Save  me !  "  were  also  the  first  words  which  Christian  heard 
from  her  lips  in  the  cabin  ;  she  whom  he  had  regarded  as  a 
rich  and  noble  lady,  she  whom  we  know  as  one  of  those  night 
wanderers.  "  I  am  sunk  in  shame  !  "  said  she.  "  No  one 
esteems  me  —  I  no  longer  esteem  myself ;  therefore,  save  me, 
Soren !  I  have  honestly  divided  my  money  with  you  ;  I  yet 
am  possessed  of  forty  dollars.  Marry  me,  and  take  me  away 
out  of  this  woe,  and  out  of  this  misery !  Take  me  to  a  place 
where  nobody  will  know  me,  where  you  may  not  be  ashamed 
of  me .  I  will  work  for  you  like  a  slave,  till  the  blood  comes 
out  at  my  finger-ends.  O  take  me  away  with  you !  In  a 
year's  time  it  may  be  too  late." 

"  Should  I  take  you  to  my  old  father  and  mother  ? "  said 
the  sailor. 

"  I  will  kiss  the  dust  from  their  feet ;  they  may  beat  me, 
and  I  will  bear  it  without  a  murmur  —  will  patiently  bear  every 
olow  !  I  am  already  old,  that  I  know  —  I  shall  soon  be  ei^ht- 


136  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

and-twenty :  but  it  is  an  act  of  mercy  which  I  beseech  from 
you.  If  you  will  not  do  it,  nobody  else  will ;  and  then  I  must 
drink,  drink  so  much  till  my  brain  reels,  and  I  thus  forget  how 
unfortunate  I  have  made  myself!  " 

"  Is  that  the  very  important  thing  that  you  have  got  to  tell 
me  ?  "  remarked  the  sailor,  with  a  cold  indifference. 

Her  tears,  her  sighs,  and  her  words  of  despair  sunk  deep 
into  Christian's  heart.  A  visionary  image  vanished,  and  with 
its  vanishing  he  saw  the  dark  side  of  a  naked  reality. 

He  found  himself  again  alone. 

A  few  days  after  this  the  ice  had  to  be  hewn  away  from  the 
channel.  Christian  and  the  sailor  struck  their  ax.es  deeply 
into  the  firm  ice,  so  that  it  broke  into  great  pieces.  Something 
white  hung  fast  to  the  ice  in  the  opening  ;  the  sailor  enlarged 
the  opening,  and  then  a  female  corpse  presented  itself,  dressed 
in  white  as  for  a  ball.  She  had  amber  beads  round  her  neck, 
gold  ear-rings,  and  she  held  her  hands  closely  folded  against 
her  breast  as  if  for  prayer.  It  was  Steffen-Margaret. 

Christian  could  not  forget  the  sight ;  it  was  the  last  picture 
to  the  history  of  that  evening  in  the  cabin.  What  had  not 
his  godfather  taught  him  the  last  time  that  they  were  together 
in  Svendborg !  "  Enjoy  the  pleasures  of  life  whilst  you  can 
do  so,  that  you  may  not  have  to  weep  when  your  head  is  gray 
because  you  have  no  sins !  Better  is  it  to  have  enjoyed  life 
too  much,  than  afterward  to  sigh  in  solitude  because  one  has 
not  enjoyed  whilst  one  was  able  to  do  so." 

He  now  understood  the  demon-like  sentiment  of  these 
words,  attached  himself  more  closely  to  his  God,  and  prayed 
"  Deliver  us  from  evil !  " 

On  the  evening  after  her  visit  to  the  sailor  she  had  thrown 
herself  under  the  ice,  in  the  opening  made  around  the  ship. 
The  consuming  fire  of  despair  which  burned  in  her  bosom 
had  been  extinguished  by  the  cold  flood. 

Christian  no  longer  put  confidence  in  his  dreams,  because 
the  world  had  no  fairies,  as  in  his  fairy-tales. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"Farewell !  a  wanderer  forth  am  I ! 
Ah,  in  vain !  the  curtain  doth  not  stir  ! 
She  sleeps,  she  dreams,  my  image  in  her  eye." 

H.  HE  INK. 

THE  light  breaks  through  the  thick  leaves  of  the  flower  in 
all  colors  which  we  know,  now  red,  now  blue,  and  now 
in  other  shades.  With  equal  power  shines  God  in  all  things 
which  are  created ;  like  light  into  the  flower  beams  His  Al- 
mighty power  from  the  whole  creation.  The  whole  is  a  mirac- 
ulous work  like  each  single  portion,  but  we  are  accustomed 
to  it,  and  therefore  we  find  it  quite  common.  Imaginary 
stories  are  only  unnatural  from  the  breaking  of  the  thread 
from  the  want  of  that  wise  arrangement  which  we  have  daily 
before  our  eyes  in  the  great  divine  story  in  which  we  ourselves 
live  and  act, 

"  It  does  not  go  on  here  in  the  world  as  it  does  in  the  tales 
which  people  have  told  one ! "  sighed  Christian.  "  Here  there 
are  no  powerful  fairies  I " 

But  here  there  is  a  God,  who  is  more  powerful  than  all  fairies. 
Everything  which  surrounds  us  testifies  of  His  wisdom,  — 
that  which  dwells  within  us  of  His  goodness. 

"  In  about  fourteen  days,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  "  we  will  again 
get  the  Lucie  under  way !  She  has  enjoyed  winter  pleasure 
enough  in  Copenhagen !  " 

They  were  to  make  the  voyage  back  to  Svendborg  ;  it  was 
now  the  first  of  March.  Christian  felt  himself  troubled  at  the 
thought  of  home  ;  the  remembrance  of  it  was  always  to  him 
as  if  he  had  had  a  hateful  dream.  He  thought  that  he  must 
remain  in  Copenhagen  ;  he  believed  that  here  fortune  at  length 
would  be  favorable  tc  him. 

"  If  I  were  to  get  on  shore  and  into  the  crowd  in  the 
meets,  how  could  they  ever  find  me  ?  I  must  do  ?o  on  the 


138  ONLY  A  FIDDLER 

day  before  we  sail,  and  then  they  will  not  have  time  to  seek 
after  me.  But  then,  who  will  there  be  to  care  for  me  ?  Yet 
people  will  not  let  me  die  of  hunger  if  I  am  quite  forlorn,  and 
that  the  dear  God  will  not  wholly  permit !  " 

Whilst  this  idea  was  maturing  itself  more  and  more  in  his 
soul,  he  felt  at  the  same  time  gnawing  pangs  of  conscience  on 
account  of  the  ingratitude  which,  by  this  conduct,  he  should 
show  toward  Peter  Vieck,  who  had  been  always  so  kind  and 
friendly  toward  him.  This  feeling  of  guilt  urged  him  to  be 
still  more  zealous  in  his  service  in  order  to  please  him. 

"  Perhaps  the  Count  only  waits  for  my  taking  such  a  step,' 
thought  he  to  himself,  "  that  he  may  convince  himself  how 
great  is  my  desire  for  music  I  If  I  only  take  it,  then  he  will 
help  me."  This  thought  was  a  weighty  and  conclusive  argu- 
ment, and  thus  at  length  he  was  satisfied  with  his  resolve  of 
leaving  the  ship  the  night  before  they  set  sail,  and  of  resign- 
ing all  the  rest  into  the  hands  of  the  dear  God. 

The  last  afternoon  was  now  come  in  which  the  ship  had  yet 
to  lie  in  harbor.  Christian  stood  by  the  anchor  and  looked 
toward  the  house  in  which  Naomi  lived.  The  most  beautiful 
spring  flowers  filled  the  windows.  The  magnificent  growth  of 
South  Africa  cpuld  not  appear  in  a  richer  variety  of  coloring 
than  did  these  flowers  to  our  little  seaman.  In  the  midst  of  his 
poverty,  on  the  eve  of  becoming  even  yet  more  forlorn  than  he 
already  was,  he  yet  dreamed  of  the  splendor  with  which  he  was 
to  decorate  his  castle  when  he  had  become  rich  ;  how  it 
should  all  be,  like  that  before  him,  adorned  with  beautiful 
flowers ;  and  Naomi,  in  gold  and  silk,  should  adorn  the  glory 
of  all.  He  then  again  thought  on  Peter  Vieck,  and  that  this 
was  the  last  evening  on  which  they  were  to  be  together.  This 
thought  lay  like  a  stone  upon  his  heart. 

"  Is  it  with  you  as  it  is  with  the  hens,  that  you  have  got  the 
pip  ?  "  asked  Peter  Vieck  ;  "  you  will  soon  now  get  back  to 
Svendborg,  and  Lucie  will  receive  you  joyfully.  You  may 
well  be  fond  of  her." 

"  Yes,  very  well ! "  said  Christian,  and  the  state  of  excite- 
ment in  which  he  was  filled  his  eyes  with  tears. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  now  crying  again  about  ? "  asked 
Peter  Vieck  in  amazement.  "  You  have  at  kst  shipped  salt- 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  139 

watei ;  I  cannot  have  you  with  me  on  board,  —  I  have  often 
enough  thought  so." 

Christian  became  burning  hot.  To  be  sure  he  was  thinking 
about  leaving  Peter  Vieck,  but  that  Peter  should  withdraw 
his  hand  from  him  was  an  idea  that  had  never  occurred  to 
him.  Peter  Vieck's  words,  therefore,  extremely  shocked  him. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  throw  you  overboard,"  said  Peter 
Vieck,  drawing  the  boy  kindly  toward  him  ;  "  you  are  a  good 
youth  ;  I  have  a  great  affection  for  you ;  but  for  the  sea  you 
are  good  for  nothing,  —  that  I  have  seen  long  enough." 

Christian  wished  that  he  was  able  to  contradict  the  captain. 

"  Now,  properly,  you  ought  to  have  a  good  trimming,"  con- 
tinued Peter  Vieck ;  "  for  I  have  very  well  deserved  that  you 
should  have  told  me  what  you  had  in  your  mind.  I  have 
long  wished  to  talk  with  you  about  it,  but  something  or  other 
always  came  in  the  way.  Now  you  shall  get  as  good  as  you 
deserve." 

Did  Peter  Vieck  know  all  ?  did  he  know  that  Christian  had 
the  intention  of  leaving  the  vessel  this  night?  The  sinner 
with  the  heavy  conscience  cast  down  his  eyes. 

"  That  night  when  we  were  set  fast  on  Saltholm,"  continued 
Peter  Vieck,  "  when  you  sat  musing  over  the  fire  and  talked 
with  the  Count  about  what  sort  of  a  fine  fellow  you  would 
like  to  be,  Peter  Vieck  was  not  asleep,  although  he  lay  with 
his  eyes  closed.  I  heard  also  all  the  stuff  that  he  crammed 
your  head  with,  and  which  you  were  foolish  enough  to  believe. 
I  heard  also  how  you  made  your  confession,  and  at  last  how 
you  supplicated.  That  was  downright  simple  of  you,  but  at 
that  time  I  determined  to  release  you.  I  cannot  make  use  of 
you,  yet  I  will  not  therefore  let  you  drive  before  the  stream. 
Neither  shall  you  go  to  your  parents  —  that's  true.  I  will  put 
you  as  an  apprentice  to  Mr.  Knepus  in  Odense  :  he  is  a  man 
who  understands  music,  and  from  him  you  will  learn  what  is 
right.  Then  we  shali  see  what  you  are  good  for." 

Christian  pressed  his  hand. 

"  If  you  only  will  not  grow  melancholy  !  "  said  Peter  Vieck. 
"  If  anything  good  comes  out  of  you,  it  will  heartily  please  me, 
but  as  a  sailor  you  are  good  for  nothing." 

Christian  was  ready  to  cry  when  he  thought  on  that  which  he 


I4.O  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

had  been  about  to  do  this  very  night;  it  lay  heavy  on  his 
heart,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  confess  his  fault.  He  was  to 
learn  music,  to  live  for  music  !  His  highest  wish  was  fulfilled, 
and  the  help  came  from  Peter  Vieck,  from  him  to  whom  he 
had  never  expressed  it !  He  kneeled  down  in  the  dark  cor- 
ner of  the  cabin  and  thanked  the  dear,  good  God  for  his 
happiness. 

At  break  of  day  the  cable  rolled  along  the  bulwarks,  and  the 
Lucie  was  got  out  of  the  harbor.  Christian  glanced  up  joy- 
fully, and  yet  pensively,  toward  Naomi's  windows.  "  To-day 
up  there  they  will  talk  about  nothing  else  than  that  we  are  no 
longer  lying  in  harbor,"  thought  he.  "  Poor  Steffen-Marga- 
ret,  who  would  so  willingly  have  sailed  with  us !  " 

The  ship  glided  slowly  out  of  the  harbor. 

"  Our  captain  has  sailed,"  said  the  gouvernante,  as  she 
looked  out  of  the  window.  "  There  lies  another  vessel  in  his 
place,  a  ship  from  Bornholm  with  clocks." 

"  That  is  very  good,"  answered  Naomi ;  "  then  the  ship- 
boy  is  away  also.  He  was  so  troublesome  and  conceited  !  I 
saw  him  as  a  child  ;  his  parents  lived  near  us,  and  one  day  he 
played  with  me.  That  is  now  many  years  ago,  and  yet  he 
rushed  directly  into  our  room.  I  fancy,  certainly,  that  he  is 
not  quite  right  in  his  head.  You  cannot  think  how  he  tor- 
mented me  on  the  drive  over  the  ice  !  it  really  grieved  me  that 
I  was  obliged  to  seem  so  unkind  to  him,  but  I  could  not  do 
otherwise." 

"  It  would  be,  however,  very  interesting  if  he  really  did 
possess  a  great  talent  for  music,  and  found  an  opportunity  of 
cultivating  it,"  said  the  gouvernante.  "Klaus  Schall,  who 
composed  the  beautiful  music  to  '  Bluebeard,'  was  a  poor  boy 
when  he  got  a  place  in  the  dancing-school  at  the  theatre ;  he 
thus  became  a  dancer,  and  is  now  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
composers." 

"  That  sounds  just  like  a  novel,"  said  Naomi ;  "  but  I  like 
it  a  deal  better  when  the  heroes  at  the  end  of  the  story 
remain  unfortunate  :  that  is  much  more  interesting  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  Be  it  not  beautiful,  it  certainly  is  true."  —  WESSEL. 

WE  must  now  betake  ourselves  to  Odense,  the  capital  of 
Funen,  which  at  that  time  had  a  much  stronger  charac- 
ter of  simplicity  than  now.  There  were  here  in  those  days  many 
old  houses  with  thick  walls ;  bass-reliefs  above  the  windows, 
massy  balustrades  to  the  steps,  which  were  furnished  with 
clumsy  copper  roofs  nailed  fast  to  the  walls.  Upon  one 
house  were  to  be  seen  the  twelve  apostles  carved  in  wood  ; 
on  another,  characteristic  heads  with  outstretched  tongues, 
which  terminated  the  timbers.  On  the  contrary,  the  city  at 
that  time  wanted  that  excellent  means  of  preventing  the  re- 
turn of  the  dead,  and  securing  themselves  from  hobgoblins, 
which  was  reserved  for  the  discovery  of  a  later  time.  Now- 
adays, if  one  goes  into  the  burial-ground  of  St.  Knud's 
Church,  one  cannot  truly  exclaim  with  the  poet,  — 
"  The  grass  waves  lightly  o'er  these  graves,"  — 

because  all  the  graves  here  are  flagged, — flagged  as  com- 
pletely as  the  streets  of  the  city.  The  survivors,  who  retain 
a  careful  memory  of  their  dead,  weed  out  every  blade  of 
grass  which  makes  its  appearance  between  the  well-laid  stones. 
As  before  said,  Odense  was  not  possessed  of  this  remarka- 
ble feature  in  the  year  1816,  when  we  visited  the  city  in  the 
company  of  Christian  ;  the  old  appearance  of  things  was  as 
yet  unchanged.  The  old  antique  balconies  looked  quite  ro- 
mantic with  their  citizen  ladies  ;  the  guilds,  when  they  changed 
their  herbergs,  had  their  shields  borne  in  procession  through 
the  city,  with  a  harlequin  at  their  head  ;  and  on  Easter  morn- 
ing the  people  went  still  upon  the  Nuns'  Hill  to  see  the  sun 
dance,  because  Christ  had  arisen  from  the  grave.  It  almost 
always  happened,  to  be  sure,  that  then  a  cloud  covered  the 
sun  and  the  dancing  was  not  to  be  seen,  yet  every  one  be- 
iieved  in  his  heart  that  it  had  danced  behind  the  cloud. 


142  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

One  of  the  smallest  churches  in  Odense  was  that  of  St. 
John,  and  yet  this  is  the  one  of  which  the  people  say  that  the 
sibyl  who  visited  King  Solomon  prophesied  that  it  would 
sometime  sink  when  it  was  filled  with  people.  A  gallery  con 
nects  the  church  with  the  castle,  to  the  garden  of  which  the 
church-yard  adjoins ;  close  beside  the  latter  lie  several  houses, 
in  one  of  which  dwelt  Mr.  Knepus. 

A  reddish-brown  suit,  consisting  of  breeches,  waistcoat,  and 
coat,  with  great  metal  buttons,  was  his  every-day  apparel ;  to 
which  a  wig  with  a  pig-tail,  a  little  three-cornered  hat,  and  a 
walking-stick  with  a  magnificent  head  of  amber,  furnished 
the  ornamental  part.  Odense  possessed  at  that  time  many 
examples  of  this  kind  of  original  figures  belonging  to  a  by- 
gone century.  Mr.  Knepus  did  not  permit  his  clothes  to  be 
purified  by  beating  and  brushing  —  they  suffered  enough 
without  that,  said  he  ;  and  the  first  visit  made  us  acquainted 
with  his  appearance  in  this  respect. 

It  was  in  the  last  days  of  April  when  Christian,  with  his 
little  bundle  under  his  arm,  and  the  letter  of  introduction 
from  Peter  Vieck  in  his  hand,  stood  upon  two  stone  steps 
and  knocked  with  the  iron  knocker  upon  the  ever  closed 
door. 

A  thin  lady,  with  fluttering  and  somewhat  dirty  cap-ribbons, 
opened  the  door.  That  was  Mrs.  Knepus. 

"  You  are,  probably,  Mr.  Peter  Vieck's  foster-son  ?  "  said 
she,  welcoming  him,  pressed  his  hand,  and  conducted  him 
amid  a  torrent  of  words  through  the  long  passage,  which  was 
not  very  cleanly  swept,  but  which  yet  was  strewn  with  fresh 
sand.  Two  old  grave-stones,  which,  on  the  breaking  up  of 
the  church  of  the  Grey  Brothers,  had  been  purchased  together 
with  several  monumental  tablets,  ornamented  the  naked  walls, 
and  one  did  not  rightly  know  whether  here  one  was  in  a 
chapel  or  in  a  dwelling-house. 

"  We  lead  a  very  quiet  life  here,"  said  the  lady  ;  "  the 
shooting-club  and  the  king's  birthday  are  the  only  two  festi- 
vals in  which  Knepus  takes  any  part.  He  amuses  himself, 
as  you  will  see,  in  his  own  way." 

With  this  the  man  himself  made  his  appearance.  He  wore 
a  dirty,  yellow  night-cap  on  his  bald,  pointed  head,  and  a 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


143 


somewhat  narrow  overcoat,  which  did  the  duty  of  a  sleeping 
coat,  for  it  was  bound  round  the  waist  with  a  leathern  belt 
A  pair  of  drawers  completed  the  whole  costume  of  the  shriv- 
eled legs. 

The  married  couple  made  use  of  the  pronoun  you  in  ad- 
dressing each  other. 

Mrs.  Knepus  had  prepared  the  garret  which  looked  toward 
the  castle-garden  for  Christian.  To  be  sure  this  was  the 
library  and  the  store-room  of  the  house ;  but  people  must 
manage  as  well  as  they  could,  and  it  would  not  do  to  bring 
him  down  into  the  lower  story,  where  the  lady  herself  slept 
He,  therefore,  must  have  one  of  the  garrets,  whilst  Mr.  Kne- 
pus himself  had  the  other. 

Already  at  eight  o'clock,  seeing  it  was  yet  winter,  Mr.  Kne- 
pus went  to  bed  in  order  to  be  up  early  in  the  morning. 
Mrs.  Knepus  and  the  maid-servant  were  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
later.  Christian,  so  early  as  the  first  evening,  was  initiated 
into  the  peculiarities  of  the  family. 

The  walls  of  one  room  were  pasted  over  with  caricatures, 
and  round  about  hung  all  kinds  of  instruments.  Upon  a 
shelf  playthings  were  hung  ;  but  the  child  for  which  these 
were  intended,  Mr.  Knepus  himself,  lay  in  bed.  Upon  a 
table  before  him  steamed  a  spirit  lamp,  with  a  little  punch- 
bowl. The  child,  from  time  to  time,  took  a  draught  and 
looked  through  a  perspective-glass.  The  servant  changed 
the  pictures  when  Mr.  Knepus  nodded  with  his  head,  and 
his  wife  read  aloud  to  him  in  one  of  the  German  classics. 
These  Mr.  Knepus  called  his  "  childish  hours,"  and  he  had 
them  every  evening.  As  soon  as  he  sunk  his  head  weariedly 
upon  the  pillow,  and  returned  no  answer  to  the  question  of 
his  wife,  "  Art  thou  sleeping,  my  little  lamb  ?  "  she  and  the 
servant  glided  softly  out  of  the  room,  and  were  their  own 
masters. 

Thus  also  now  lay  Mr.  Knepus  in  his  bed,  and  as  the 
company  this  evening  was  so  numerous,  he  proposed  a  game 
at  forfeits,  in  which  he  in  bed,  and  the  rest  out  of  it,  could 
take  part ;  and  which,  according  to  his  opinion,  must  be 
uncommonly  amusing.  Christian  was  sentenced  to  give  Mrs. 
Knepus  a  kiss  under  the  great  carpet,  which  her  husband 


£44  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

threw  over  her.  The  good  Christian  closed  his  eyes  and 
commended  himself  to  God.  At  length  he  received  a  glass 
of  punch,  and  in  the  end  went  to  his  room  in  the  most  cheer- 
ful state  of  mind.  His  chamber  was  a  low  little  room  under 
the  steep  roof,  which,  yet  well  furnished,  strongly  reminded 
him  of  Peter  Vieck's  cabin.  The  greater  part  of  the  room 
was  occupied  as  a  great  repository,  in  which  were  arranged 
the  collected  works  of  Wieland,  Schulzen's  "  Handbook  of 
Medicine,"  and  the  remainder  entirely  musical  works.  An 
ancient  grave-stone,  that  had  its  origin  also  in  the  now  disap- 
peared convent  of  the  Grey  Brothers,  stood  with  all  its  saintly 
images  at  the  foot  of  his  somewhat  short  bedstead,  composed 
of  an  old  arm-chair  and  a  kneading-trough.  Behind  the 
grave-stone  hung  a  smoked  salmon  and  several  pounds  of 
candles  ;  just  beside  stood  a  butter-cask :  two  chairs  and  a 
table  completed  the  whole  of  his  chamber  furniture. 

"  Now  I  have  arranged  everything  quite  conveniently,"  said 
Mrs.  Knepus,  as  she  conducted  the  young  inmate  to  his  cham- 
ber. "  In  the  table-drawer  you  can  keep  your  clean  linen  ;  and 
here,  under  your  bed,  is  a  knapsack  in  which  you  can  put 
your  dirty  things ;  because  order  must  rule  in  everything. 
Mr.  Knepus  goes,  to  be  sure,  always  below  to  the  pump  to 
wash  himself;  but  a  young  man  like  you  shall  have  every- 
thing as  it  ought  to  be.  Here  you  have  a  beer-bottle  with 
water ;  you  can,  perhaps,  pour  the  water  over  your  hands  out 
of  the  window  when  you  wash  yourself:  when  opportunity 
occurs  we  will  buy  a  wash-basin.  Our  looking-glasses  are  too 
big  for  this  room  ;  you  must  manage  with  this  box  —  there  is 
a  very  pretty  looking-glass  in  the  lid.  About  six  your  coffee 
will  be  sent  to  you  in  bed  ;  you  must  not  get  up  earlier." 

Christian  was  now  alone  in  his  new  home  :  he  felt  himself 
tranquil,  and  was  happy  to  be  now  on  the  way  to  his  fortune. 
He  opened  his  window,  and  looked  in  the  clear  moonlight 
over  the  little  court  in  the  castle-garden.  Between  the  thick 
old  trees  there  lay  a  green  lawn,  amid  which  was  a  little  lake. 
Two  swans  floated  upon  the  water  and  bowed  their  long  necks 
over  their  backs.  All  was  solemnly  still ;  the  moon  shone 
upon  the  little  lake  in  which  the  swans  floated.  Christian 
looked  at  them,  he  thought  of  all  that  he  had  lived  through, 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  145 

and  the  world  appeared  to  be  all  at  once  like  an  entire  ro- 
mance ;  the  swans  upon  the  water  were  the  fairies  of  the  soli- 
tude, who  knew  of  his  happiness  and  of  his  gratitude. 

From  the  following  morning  Christian's  time  was  divided  in 
the  very  wisest  manner.  Out  of  the  house  he  was  to  enjoy 
the  usual  school  instruction,  in  common  with  several  other 
boys  ;  but  at  home  he  studied  Turk's  "  Short  Advice  to  the 
Thorough-bass  player."  "  Order  must  rule  in  everything,"  said 
Mr.  Knepus,  and,  according  to  his  notion,  order  governed 
his  whole  house.  He  went  only  at  certain  hours  to  his  be- 
loved helpmate,  and  then  she  was  always  knitting,  spinning, 
or  sewing  very  industriously,  that  is  to  say,  as  long  as  he  was 
there  ;  as  soon,  however,  as  the  few  minutes  of  his  visit  were 
past,  the  needle  rested,  so  did  the  knitting  and  spinning.  A 
poor  woman  prepared  the  yarn  which  Mrs.  Knepus  exhibited 
as  her  house  industry ;  but  why  should  not  poverty  enjoy  the 
advantage  ?  Why  should  she  make  her  own  life  so  miserable  ? 
She  then  read  romances  out  of  the  two  circulating  libraries  of 
the  city,  and  followed  the  advance  of  literature  as  well  as  she 
could  in  a  provincial  town. 

Christian  was  now  in  full  activity ;  and  it  was  part  of  his 
duty  also  to  attend  his  principal  when  he  went  out  a-fishing, 
and  be  helpful  to  his  wife  to  lay  straws  before  the  door.  If 
the  lady  saw  afterward  that  the  straws  were  disarranged,  then 
she  knew  that  her  maid-servant  had  been  to  the  dance.  Up 
in  her  own  chamber  she  had  an  old  piano-forte,  on  the  inner 
side  of  whose  lid  were  pasted  pictures  of  shepherds  and 
shepherdesses  that  danced  to  the  sound  of  flutes  and  shawms. 
Ah,  how  gladly  would  he  have  played,  only  with  one  hand,  a 
lively  air  upon  it !  But  the  choral  notes  presented  to  him 
their  great  heads,  and  cried  incessantly  to  him,  like  Mr.  Kne- 
pus, "  Always  slow  !  nicely  slow !  "  Bach  and  Handel,  names 
which  he  had  never  before  heard,  now  sounded  continually  as 
musical  saints  before  his  ears.  O  what  a  deal  was  there 
yet  to  hear  and  to  learn  ! 

In  the  month  of  June  occurred  that  one  festival  in  which 
Mr.  Knepus  was  accustamed  to  take  part.  It  was  the  so- 
called  shooting-club  —  a  festivity  which,  even  until  the  pres- 
ent day,  has  maintained  all  its  peculiarities.  In  the  eari? 


146  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

morning  hour  marched  the  honorable  body  of  citizens,  with 
Turkish  music  at  their  head,  out  of  the  city  to  the  shooting 
ground.  Triumphal  arches  adorned  the  whole  way,  and  the 
western  gate  was  ornamented  with  garlands  and  inscriptions. 
All  schools,  all  workshops  make  this  a  holiday ;  and  when,  in 
the  evening,  the  train  reenters  the  city,  the  windows  of  the 
streets  through  which  the  procession  passes  are  filled  with 
spectators. 

Exactly  on  this  day  Peter  Vieck  came  to  the  city,  to  visit 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Knepus ;  or,  perhaps,  rather  to  see  how  it  went 
on  with  Christian. 

"  I  have  brought  a  little  anker  of  beer  out  of  Stettin," 
said  he,  "  and  a  box  of  confections.  I  think  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Knepus  will  do  me  the  favor  to  accept  them.  It  is  now,  per- 
haps, twelve  years  since  I  was  here  last,  and  yet  I  find  no 
little  Knepus !  However,  it  may  yet  come  ;  but  then  we  must 
give  the  mother  a  vivat  /" 

Mrs.  Knepus  laughed  aloud  at  the  witty  conceit  of  the 
ship's  captain. 

"  Knepus  is  gone  to-day  with  the  guild  ! "  said  she  ;  "  you 
must  accompany  me  there." 

"  Now,  if  I  know  the  Odense  men  right,  they  will  make 
more  holes  in  the  bottles  than  in  the  target,"  said  Peter  Vieck. 
"  Where  do  you  think,  now,  one  should  have  the  safest  place 
out  there  ?  I  think  just  before  the  target ;  because,  at  twenty 
paces'  distance,  one  might  easily  get  a  stray  bullet  in  the  body. 
But  however,  I  say,  how  does  it  go  on  with  the  youth  ?  He 
conducts  himself  well,  does  he  ? " 

"  O,  he  is  so  good,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  heartily  inno- 
cent !  There  is  nothing  to  say  against  him,"  replied  Mrs. 
Knepus. 

"  To  say  against  him  !  No,  that  I  should  not  expect,  else 
1  should  have  taught  him  different,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  some- 
what sore  on  the  subject. 

"  He  is  now  upon  the  shooting-ground.  You  should  only 
see  how  well  the  green  bow  of  ribbons  on  his  hat  becomes 
him  !  He  carried  the  king's  cup,  the  silver  goblet,  before  the 
procession.  There  was  a  great  strife  about  this  honor,  be- 
cause the  last  year's  crown-prince  —  that  is,  he  whose  shot  is 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER'  147 

second  only  to  tnat  of  the  king's  shot  —  wished  for  it :  but 
Knepus  was  the  conqueror ;  his  scholar  carried  the  goblet" 

At  this  moment  the  servant-girl  entered  the  room,  quite  out 
of  breath.  The  washerwoman's  little  boy,  she  said,  was  come 
to  bring  the  news  which  his  mother  had  heard  from  the  city 
watchman,  that  Mr.  Knepus  had  shot  near  to  the  bull's-eye, 
that  only  the  gunsmith  could  excel  him ;  but  that  he  had 
missed  his  shot,  and  therefore  that  Mr.  Knepus  was  king. 

"  Ah,  no  !  "  said  Mrs.  Knepus,  heartily  glad  ;  "he  had  bet- 
ter be  crown-prince,  because  it  costs  so  much  to  be  king, 
for  then  he  must  treat  folks.  The  crown-prince  gets  a  soup- 
ladle,  and  that  we  are  very  much  in  want  of." 

"  We  must  go  out !  "  said  Peter  Vieck ;  "  I  conduct  the 
queen."  He  offered  the  lady  his  arm.  "  We  shall  get  on  by 
degrees,  for  my  legs  are  quite  in  tune  for  the  procession." 

Toward  evening  the  windows  were  seen  to  be  rilled  with 
spectators.  The  shooting  was  ended,  and  the  target  was,  ac- 
cording to  a  certain  form,  put  up  to  sale  ;  and  then,  as  was 
the  old  custom,  given  up  to  the  street-boys,  that  they  might 
carry  it  through  the  city.  Six  of  the  greatest  and  strongest, 
having  beforehand  strengthened  themselves  with  brandy,  took 
*he  target  on  their  backs ;  two  courageous  comrades  mounted 
then  upon  it,  plundered  the  triumphal  arches,  and  thus,  adorned 
with  garlands  and  inscriptions,  were  borne  in  triumph  through 
the  city,  whilst  the  whole  mob  of  boys  shouted,  and  with  green 
branches  in  their  hands  followed  the  procession.  At  length 
they  arranged  themselves  in  double  rows,  to  receive  the  honor- 
able body  of  citizens,  who  advanced  to  the  music  of  a  full 
band. 

The  king,  and  the  two  who  had  made  the  next  best  shots, 
the  crown-prince  and  the  heir-apparent,  with  ribbon-scarfs 
covered  with  silver  spangles  across  the  shoulder,  opened  the 
procession,  and  before  them  walked  the  youth  who  bore  the 
silver  cup.  With  proud  ostentation  Christian  carried  this 
before  his  master. 

"  That  is  my  husband  ! "  said  Mrs.  Knepus,  in  the  excess  of 
her  joy,  not  being  able  to  say  more. 

"  Yes,  now  he  has  the  cup,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  —  "  he  must 
pour  out  for  the  others." 


148  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

Christian  glanced,  highly  delighted,  toward  all  the  windows 
and  over  all  the  crowd  of  people. 

Upon  all  the  stone  steps  stood  the  spectators,  thickly 
thronged  one  against  another,  and  all  eyes  beamed  with  joy 
There  was  a  very  dense  crowd  of  people  at  the  corner  of  one 
of  the  streets,  and  amid  the  human  mass  there  stood  promi- 
nently forth  a  man  of  pale  and  sickly  appearance  ;  he  looked 
fixedly  at  Christian,  and  nodded  to  him  kindly  as  to  an  ac- 
quaintance. 

"  Lord  Jesus  ! "  sighed  the  boy,  and  cast  his  eyes  to  the 
ground.  It  was  really  his  father  —  his  father,  who  perished  in 
the  war  —  whom  he  saw  !  He  cast  his  eyes  once  more  upon 
the  man.  Yes,  there  stood  aloft  on  the  steps,  strikingly  visi- 
ble amid  the  crowd,  his  father,  whom  he  had  wept  as  dead. 
Christian's  hands  trembled,  and  he  had  almost  let  the  silver 
cup  fall.  The  exultation  which  surrounded  him  was  only  a 
hateful  clamor  in  his  ear. 

The  procession  advanced  toward  the  club-house,  where  the 
festivities  were  to  be  closed  by  a  three  days'  ball.  Health 
upon  health  was  to  be  drunk,  whilst  trumpeters  stood  and 
blew  through  the  windows  ;  and  a  harlequin,  with  a  blackened 
face  and  a  fool's  bell  in  his  hand,  did  his  utmost  for  the 
amusement  of  the  people. 

As  soon  as  the  procession  had  entered  the  club-saloon,  the 
boys  with  the  target,  upqn  which  the  lively  dioscuri  still  main- 
tained their  places,  moved  off  to  the  house  of  the  king  of  the 
shooting,  where  his  wife  cqurtesied  to  them,  and  then  to  the 
burgomaster's  and  the  city  director's,  attended  still  by  all  the 
boys  who  followed  the  train,  swinging  green  branches  in  the 
air.  It  was  the  marching  woqd,  as  Macbeth  saw  it. 

Whilst  this  went  on  in  the  street,  Christian  found  himself 
in  the  club-saloon,  amid  all  the  festal  company  :  hundreds  of 
his  equals  envied  him  his  happiness.  But  he  stopd  there  un- 
susceptible of  the  gladness  th,at  surrounded  him,  for  that  pales 
smiling  countenance  which  he  had  seen  in  the  throng,  had 
oetrified  his  very  vitals. 

"  I  have  seen  my  father  ! "  sajd  he*  in  silent  horror  ;  "  and 
yet  he  is  dead,  and  my  mother  is  again  married  !  It  was  no 
accidental  resemblance  which  deceived  me  ;  no  !  it  was  himself  I 
He  actually  looked  at  me  —  nodded  to  me !  O,  it  is  horrible ! 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  149 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  when  he  again  found  himself  in  his 
bolitary  chamber.  With  an  anxiety  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  foreign  to  him,  he  looked  round  his  room  ;  each 
dark  corner  terrified  him,  and  that  old  grave-stone  which 
served  him  as  a  screen  had  now,  for  the  first  time,  something 
unearthly  about  it.  The  portraits  of  the  pastor,  with  his  three 
wives  and  children,  stared  ghost-like  down  upon  him  from  the 
canvas.  The  carved,  brightly  painted  images  of  saints  had  a 
demon-like  appearance,  and  for  this  reason  he  covered  them 
with  his  clothes.  He  extinguished  the  candle,  but  still  the 
ugly  shapes  nodded  to  him,  now  seeming  to  look  down  upon 
him  from  the  wall,  and  now  through  the  window.  He  could 
not  sleep  ;  he  heard  every  stroke  of  the  bell  and  steeple-clock 
toll  the  hour  of  midnight. 

He  then  suddenly  heard  a  scraping  sound  at  the  window  • 
at  any  other  time  he  would  have  paid  no  attention  to  it.  but 
now  !  —  He  covered  himself  in  bed,  and  looked  toward  the 
window :  the  head  of  a  human  being  was  moving  before  it. 

"  My  fancy  deceives  me,"  said  he  to  himself.  He  threw  n 
second  glance  toward  the  window. 

But  now  he  saw  plainly  a  white  figure  ;  it  tapped  softly  ai 
the  window,  and  called  him  by  his  name.  His  hair  stood  up 
for  terror  ;  like  one  turned  to  stone,  he  sat  up  in  his  bed. 

He  now  recognized  the  voice  :  it  was  that  of  Mrs.  Knepus. 

To  be  sure  it  was  very  easy  to  mount  up  to  this  low  room  ; 
a  ladder  of  but  a  moderate  length  sufficed  for  this ;  but  yet 
why  did  she  come  this  way,  and  at  this  hour  ? 

He  sprung  out  of  bed  and  opened  the  window.  Really  and 
truly  it  was  the  mistress  of  the  house  who  stood  there  upon 
the  ladder.  In  the  old  song  about  the  beautiful  Agnete,  it 
says,  "  Above  she  was  a  lady  fair,  below  she  was  a  fish :  "  but 
of  Mrs.  Knepus  it  might  be  said,  "  Above  it  was  white  calico, 
below  soft  cotton  cloth." 

"  I  terrify  you  to  death,"  said  she,  in  a  low,  laughing  voice  ; 
"  but  help  me  in  !  " 

Christian  shoved  a  chair  below  the  window,  took  the  lady 
by  the  hand,  and  assisted  her  thus  to  enter,  without  compre- 
hending what  could  be  the  purport  of  this  nocturnal  visit. 

"  I  must  steal,"  said  the  lady,  as  she  boldly  swung  herself 


I5O  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

into  our  hero's  chamber,  who  presented  himself  to  her  in  that 
self-samu  nightly  costume  in  which  Gil  Bias  and  other  heroes 
have  stood. 

The  slightly  swept  passage,  on  which  the  sand  had  the  day 
before  been  freshly  strewn,  the  domestic  industry  of  the  lady 
during  the  few  minutes  when  her  husband  was  in  her  com- 
pany, and  the  other  little  characteristics  which  we  have  al- 
ready seen  in  her,  have  presented  a  rapid  sketch  of  the  interior 
condition  of  the  Knepus  family.  This  night-wandering  is  a 
supplementary  addition,  to  make  up  for  what  is  defective  in 
the  other. 

The  servant-maid  could  not  manage  to  make  the  quantity 
of  butter  which  Mrs.  Knepus  allowed  for  weekly  consumption 
hold  out,  and  this  the  mistress  said  was  only  owing  to  her 
wastefulness  ;  and  that  she  might  prove  the  truth  of  this,  she 
laid  a  wager  of  three  marks  with  the  girl  that  she  would  make 
the  allotted  portion  of  butter  last  out  the  week.  But,  in  order 
that  the  lady  might  not  go  and  eke  out  the  quantity  from  that 
which  was  in  the  store-room,  which,  as  we  know,  was  Chris- 
tian's bedroom,  the  servant  was  to  keep  the  key  when  he  was 
gone  to  bed.  The  lady,  however,  found  herself  short  in  her 
calculation ;  but  for  all  that  she  would  not  lose  her  wager, 
because  upon  that  depended  three  marks  and  her  reputation. 
From  this  cause  she  vaulted,  at  this  hour  of  night,  through  the 
window  into  the  little  garret,  —  to  steal  from  herself. 

"  I  am  in  a  horrible  situation,"  said  she  :  "  if  anybody  saw 
me  getting  through  the  window  in  this  way,  what  would  they 
say  ?  But  I  do  it  on  account  of  my  honor,  and  '  to  the  pure 
all  things  are  pure  ! '  " 

And  the  lady  helped  herself  to  the  butter. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  Dost  thou  think  that  I  go  away  with  as  cheerful  a  temper  as  I  had 
when  I  came  ?  I  have  nothing  more  left  here  in  the  world  —  no  wife  —  no 
child,  nobody,  who  will  take  care  of  me  in  my  old  age ! — one  more  kiss  — 
it  is  the  last  ....  Now  I  must  go ;  I  shall  never  see  thee  again  —  never  ! 
O  God  !  watch  over  my  child !  "  —  The  Sailor :  a  Comedy. 

IT  was  already  bright  day  when  Christian  awoke  at  hearing 
his  own  name.     He  opened  his  eyes  ;  Peter  Vieck  stood 
before  his  bed,  and  behind  him  he  saw  the  figure  of  yesterday 
It  was  his  father  —  his  father,  who  was  believed  to  be  dead  ! 

"  It  is  I,"  said  Peter  Vieck,  "  and  where  you  see  me  there 
are  no  ghosts  !  Your  father  is  not  dead  —  here  you  have  him 
living  before  you.  I  did  not  dare  to  let  him  go  alone  to  you  — 
you  are  no  hero ;  there  flows  a  little  of  the  tailor's  blood  in 
your  veins.  I  mean  nothing  amiss,"  said  he  to  the  tailor,  and 
offered  him  his  hand. 

The  father  pressed  the  son  to  his  heart,  and  wept  as  he  had 
done  on  the  morning  when  he  parted  from  him. 

It  was  not  until  dinner  that  they  came  to  know  the  true  his- 
tory of  his  fate.  The  escort  of  the  cannon  had  actually  fallen, 
as  the  sergeant  had  written  to  Marie. 

"  Nobody  knew,"  continued  the  tailor,  "  that  in  the  morn- 
ing I  had  been  carried  away  from  my  position,  and  thrust  against 
a  Swedish  horse  which  had  lost  its  rider.  I  was  hemmed  in 
so  closely  that  I  could  only  move  my  fingers  —  all  around  me 
was  one  firm  mass.  I  had  already  lost  consciousness,  as  the 
Swedes  endeavored  to  cut  for  themselves  a  passage  from 
behind.  I  was  ready  to  sink ;  had  I  fallen  I  must,  without 
the  least  chance  of  salvation,  have  been  trodden  to  death, 
and  for  that  reason  I  made  every  effort  with  my  last  strength 
to  mount  the  horse.  Now,  I  never  had  been  a  horseman  :  it 
was  the  impulse  to  save  my  own  life  which  set  me  upon  the 


I  5  2  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  I 

horse.  The  Swedish  cavalry  now  galloped  back  along  the 
ditch,  whilst  ours  fired  sharply  upon  them.  My  horse  followed 
the  other  horses.  The  balls  of  my  comrades  flew  about  my 
ears,  and  before  I  could  well  look  around  me  I  halted  under 
the  mound,  among  the  Swedes.  My  countrymen  had  not 
spared  the  enemy  —  me  they  spared,  as  far  as  life  was  con- 
cerned. The  Cossacks  had  taken  several  prisoners:  I  was 
placed  among  them.  These  inhuman  beings  fastened  us  to- 
gether by  the  thumbs,  and  then  drove  us  away  like  cattle  for 
slaughter.  My  mind  had  always  been  attracted  toward  the 
south,  but  I  was  compelled  to  go  another  way,  compelled  to 
bear  the  winter's  cold  of  the  Russian  snow-fields  —  a  cold,  of 
which  we  in  Denmark  can  form  no  idea.  Yes,  I  could  write  a 
whole  book  about  that  which  I  there  heard  and  saw ;  but  I 
would  only  relate  how,  at  last,  I  came  out  of  captivity.  I  dis 
covered  in  Russia  how  well  off  we  are  here  in  Denmark.  Den 
mark  is  a  summer  land  after  one  has  experienced  the  cold  oi 
the  forests  of  Russia.  When  the  war  was  at  an  end  I  obtained 
my  freedom,  and  I  wrote  the  tidings  directly  home,  but  the 
letter  must  never  have  been  received.  I  set  out  on  my  home- 
ward way,  but  I  bore  already  the  seeds  of  disease  within  me. 
I  lay  for  almost  nine  months  in  the  hospital  at  Mietau.  From 
this  place  I  sent  a  letter  by  a  travelling  journeyman  to  Liebau, 
that  it  might  be  sent  forward  thence  by  the  first  Danish  ship  ; 
yet  this  letter  also  was  lost.  I  thought  of  Funen,  on  all  the 
joyful  hours  which  I  had  spent  there  :  I  longed  for  Marie,  and 
thee,  my  dear  son.  Painful  remorse  tormented  me  for  having 
left  you  ;  for  three  long  years  I  had  heard  nothing  of  you  !  I 
now  set  out  on  foot  from  Mietau  to  Liebau  —  there  was  no 
ship  there.  I  went  onward  to  Memel,  from  Memel  to  Konigs- 
berg.  But  it  was  as  if  I  were  doomed  never  to  reach  you  — 
when  I  got  there  the  last  ship  had  just  sailed.  At  length, 
therefore,  I  went  with  the  first  whaler,  and  came  to  Helsingor, 
wandered  through  Zealand,  and  came  again  to  Funen.  O !  I 
rejoiced  like  a  child !  I  would  tell  them  about  the  battle  at 
Bornhoved,  of  the  march  toward  Russia,  and  of  what  I  had 
seen  and  had  suffered.  Ah,  how  I  longed  for  Marie,  and  thee, 
my  Christian  !  I  arrived  at  Orebak  —  was  weary  and  hungry. 
I  determined  to  call  at  the  house  of  the  rich  farmer,  whose 


ONL?  A   FIDDLER! 


'53 


brother's  representative  I  was :  he  could  most  likely  tell  me 
how  things  were  at  Svendborg.  I  entered  the  parlor  —  there 
sat  the  farmer,  and  rocked  a  little  child  in  a  cradle. 

"  '  Good  evening,'  said  I ;  and  he  asked  who  I  was. 

" '  A  dead  man  ! '  I  replied ;  '  but  when  you  see  that  he  is 
put  together  out  of  flesh  and  blood  you  perhaps  will  not  be 
frightened  at  him.'  And  I  related  to  him  how  the  report  of 
my  death  had  been  false. 

"  '  Lord  Jesus  ! '  said  he,  in  a  tone  so  horror-stricken  that  I 
myself  grew  afraid. 

"  '  Is  my  wife  dead  ? '  inquired  I,  anxiously.  With  that  he 
seized  my  hand,  and  besought  me  immediately  to  leave  the 
house,  and  again  to  go  out  of  the  country.  '  Here  is  money 
for  you ! '  said  he,  as  he  gave  me  fifty  dollars  :  '  how  could 
any  one  imagine  that  you  still  lived  ?  Marie  is  now  my  wife  — 
the  child  here  in  the  cradle  is  ours.  There  she  comes  !  Do 
not  let  her  see  you  ! '  And  he  drew  me  out  with  him  into  the 
garden. 

"  She  did  not  see  my  face,  for  I  did  not  turn  round.  How 
could  she  so  soon  marry  again  !  I  know  very  well  what  I 
felt,  but  I  said  not  one  word.  I  inquired  after  thee,  my  son, 
and  learned  that  the  Lord  had  requited  thee  for  that  which  I 
had  suffered.  Thee  would  I  yet  once  more  see,  and  then 
forth  into  the  wide  world,  toward  the  south,  where  I  once  was 
so  happy.  Yesterday  I  came  here  to  Odense  ;  I  sought  thee 
out,  but  the  door  was  fast  —  everybody  was  out  on  the  shoot- 
ground.  Just  as  I  was  about  to  go  out  there  the  procession 
met  me.  Thou  wast  the  bearer  of  the  king's  prize,  people 
told  me,  and  I  saw  thee  carrying  the  cup  in  thy  hand,  walking 
before  the  train.  Didst  thou  recognize  me  ?  I  saluted  thee. 
Last  night  I  slept  at  the  public-house.  I  there  met  with  two 
journeymen,  who  to-morrow  set  out  on  their  way  to  Germany  ; 
I  make  one  in  their  company.  We  shall  not  then  see  one 
another  again  in  this  life,  my  good  son,  for  I  shall  never  more 
return  home.  Be  honest  and  cheerful,  and  give  pleasure  to 
the  good  people  who  have  taken  to  thee,  thou  poor  fellow !  If 
Ay  mother  do  not  learn  it  from  others,  do  not  thou  betray  to 
her  that  I  am  yet  living.  Such  tidings  as  those  would  only 
fall  heavily  upon  her  heart,  and  I  shall  ever  love  her." 


154  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

He  embraced  his  son. 

"  One  must  take  the  world  as  it  is,"  said  Peter  Vieck  ;  "  if 
she  goes  thus  with  me,  I  go  thus  with  her !  —  one  must  sail 
before  the  wind.  As  regards  the  boy,  we  will  hope  that  some- 
time something  will  be  made  of  him.  For  my  se&-Lucie  he  is 
good  for  nothing ;  but  my  land-Lucie,  the  charming  girl,  she 
thinks  a  deal  of  him.  I  will  make  a  brave  fellow  out  of  him, 
and  then  she  can  afterward  take  him,  if  she  like  to  do  so. 
They  already  write  to  one  another.  She  has  learned  from 
her  father  German,  as  well  as  history ;  and  now  she  shall 
learn  some  dress-making.  I  shall  have  her  boarded  and  taught 
here  in  Odense  ;  in  six  weeks  she  will  be  here." 

Christian  smiled  at  this  intelligence,  and  it  warmed  his 
neart.  The  good,  kind  Lucie,  was  then  his  bride  !  —  he  had 
never  yet  thought  on  that.  She  was  the  cause  of  his  happi- 
ness ;  unless  she  had  interceded  for  him,  things  would  have 
been  very  sad  with  him.  His  father's  history  led  him  to  his 
own  ;  in  this  the  star  of  fortune  was  ascending,  in  the  other 
it  was  setting :  but  rising  and  setting  are  in  our  fortunes  just 
as  much  relative  ideas  as  are  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the 
sun  and  the  stars.  It  is  only  our  own  point  of  view  which  de- 
termines these. 

If  the  road  to  that  happiness  which  natural  as  well  as  pos- 
itive religion  promises  to  us  leads  from  earth  to  a  nobler  star, 
and  from  that  to  one  still  more  developed,  more  closely  re- 
lated to  us,  then  is  the  whole  unfolded  life  nothing  more  than 
a  great  journey  of  education,  a  wandering  from  land  to  land 
into  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.  Our  earthly  journeyings  are  a 
feeble,  despicable  image  of  this  great  flight.  We  make  ac- 
quaintance, win  for  ourselves  friends,  from  whom  we  rend  our- 
selves with  tears,  because  it  feels  to  us  painful  that  we  shall 
not  meet  again ;  we  are  constrained  to  live  hours,  days,  with 
people  who  are  our  torment,  and  after  our  separation  from 
them  they  float  before  us  like  original  points:  that  which 
gives  us  the  greatest  anxiety  shapes  itself  only  into  a  brilliant 
point.  From  the  heavenly  city,  the  goal  of  our  endeavors,  we 
may  perhaps  sometime  look  down  upon  our  starry  heaven,  to 
which  brilliant  points  our  earth  also  belongs  ;  we  shall  recog- 
nize her  as  the  home  of  our  first  existence,  and  all  the  remem- 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  155 

brances  of  our  own  childhood  will  float  before  us.  How  may 
it  then  be  with  those  with  whom  we  have  here  spent  our  best 
hours  in  indissoluble  attachment?  Wherever  they  may  still 
also  be  abiding  they  will  remember  these  hours,  and  hope  joy- 
fully for  a  meeting  again.  When  in  those  dwellings  of  peace 
in  other  spheres,  higher  worlds  of  education,  we  recall  in  mem- 
ory former  years  of  life,  it  will  be  to  us  as  if  we  here  looked 
back  to  a  so-called  great  journey.  We  glance  upon  the  map : 
Pans  !  yes,  there  I  was  for  four  months  !  Rome,  there  I  lived 
for  half  a  year ;  and  we  feel  the  yearning  wherewith  we  re- 
member those  persons  with  whom  we  became  then  acquainted, 
only  to  part  from  them  so  soon  :  and  yet  this  yearning  disturbs 
not  the  enjoyment  of  our  present  happiness.  On  the  great  jour- 
ney through  eternity  we  should  learn  not  only  to  love  single 
persons  in  particular  places.  We  are  no  citizens  of  the  earth 
but  citizens  of  heaven.  The  human  heart  is  no  comet,  whose 
beams  only  point  in  one  direction,  but  a  sun  which  is  equally 
bright  on  all  sides. 

These  thoughts,  although  he  might  not  be  so  clearly  con- 
scious of  them,  filled  the  mind  of  the  poor  father  and  afforded 
him  a  certain  resignation. 

Late  in  the  evening  he  bade  them  all  adieu.  Christian  ac- 
companied him  toward  the  street  in  which  the  herberg  lay. 

"  Farewell,  my  son  !  "  said  he  to  him.  "  When  thou  seest 
the  stork  arrive  and  fly  away  again,  then  think  on  me  !  When- 
ever I  see  the  creature,  I  will  think  on  our  little  room  in 
Svendborg,  where  we  used  to  look  up  to  the  nest,  and  I  will 
then  beg  of  the  stork  to  salute  my  son  wherever  I  have  to 
find  my  bread  in  the  world.  Farewell,  my  dear  boy,  my  be- 
loved child  !  "  and  he  kissed  him  with  weeping  eyes.  "  No, 
thou  shalt  not  go  back  alone  !  I  will  spend  with  thee  the  few 
moments  that  yet  remain  ! "  And  he  went  back  again  with 
Christian  toward  the  church-yard  where  Mr.  Knepus's  house 
lay.  That  was  the  last  farewell  between  father  and  son. 

Next  morning  at  sunrise  there  went  three  foot-travellers 
out  of  the  western  gate  ;  they  were  on  their  way  to  Assen, 
in  order  to  go  thence  to  the  duchy  of  Schleswig.  Among 
these  three  was  Christian's  father. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"  La  jeunesse  est  le  temps  des  illusions." 

VOLTAIKB. 

"  Pretty  art  thou  . 
That  knowest  thou 
Rather  too  well  ; 
Didst  thou  but  know  it 
Not  quite  so  well, 
Better  wouldst  show  it." 

FR.  RUCKERT. 

AROUND  the  castle-garden  of  Odense  there  wound  a 
foot-path,  which  led  from  one  end  of  the  city  to  the 
other.  On  this  way  Christian  and  Lucie  often  went  when 
they  visited  each  other.  It  was  in  August,  and  Lucie  had 
now  been  some  weeks  in  the  city  to  learn  the  dress-making 
business,  according  to  Peter  Vieck's  arrangement. 

The  sun  was  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  no  one  could  look 
at  it  without  being  dazzled  by  its  splendor. 

"  Does  it  not  look  as  if  it  came  down  to  us  ? "  said  Lucie. 
"  If  it  really  came,  and  were  not  greater  than  it  seems  to  be, 
I  would  run  there  and  look  at  it." 

"  And  I  would  run  a  thousand  miles  for  it,"  said  Christian, 
"  but  I  would  be  the  first  that  got  to  see  it ;  and  not  many 
should  follow  me.  Then  everybody  would  talk  about  it,  and 
my  name  would  get  into  all  the  newspapers." 

"  What  good  could  that  do  thee  ?  "  replied  Lucie.  "  Thou 
art  in  reality  vain  !  " 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  that  is  no  vanity !  How  canst  thou  say 
such  a  thing  ?  I  should  like  to  sit  in  a  balloon  and  fly  higher 
than  anybody  else  before  me.  I  should  like  to  make  discov- 
eries. If  I  had  been  a  mariner,  and  might  have  sailed  wher- 
ever I  liked,  I  would  have  made  voyages  of  discovery  in  the 
great  ocea-i,  or  would  have  gone  to  the  Pole  and  over  the  per* 
petual  ice. ' 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


157 


"  When  thy  fingers  had  been  blue  with  cold  thou  wouldst 
soon  have  come  back  again,"  said  Lucie. 

"  Thou  dost  not  at  all  know  me,"  replied  Christian.  "  In 
little  things  I  am  no  hero,  and  I  am  not  for  that  ashamed. 
But  thou  mayest  credit  me,  I  should  like  to  be  present  when 
there  was  something  really  important  in  hand.  To  be  sure, 
I  am  afraid  of  sailing  in  a  little  boat  on  the  channel ;  but  I 
should  not  be  at  all  afraid  of  sailing  on  the  great  ocean  in  the 
same  little  boat,  if  there  were  any  reason  for  it.  I  am  afraid 
of  an  enraged  cow,  and  yet  if  I  were  in  Africa  I  would  ride 
on  the  tiger-hunt ;  because  it  would  be  worth  while  risking 
one's  life  for  that.  He  has  been  drowned  in  the  Odense 
Straits  —  a  cow  has  killed  him  :  see,  Lucie,  there  is  really 
nothing  great  in  that.  I  should  think  nothing  of  venturing  my 
life  in  cases  where  anything  extraordinary  was  occurring." 

u  But  why  dost  thou  wish  to  be  different  to  other  people  ? " 
asked  Lucie,  and  then  suddenly  paused.  They  were  now  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  other  side  of  the  city ;  the  foot-path  made 
a  turn,  and  they  saw  on  the  way  an  old  woman,  who  wore  a 
common  man's  hat,  in  which  she  had  stuck  a  soldier's  feather, 
and  which  she  had  ornamented  with  artificial  flowers.  A 
crowd  of  children  ran  after  her,  who  made  fun  of  her 
and  laughed  at  her. 

"  That   is   the   shoemaker's   crazy  wife,"  said   Christian ; 
"  she  has  all  the  boys  after  her." 

"  Poor,  unfortunate  creature  ! "  sighed  Lucie,  and  changed 
color.  The  recollection  of  her  former  condition  of  mind 
weighed  upon  her,  yet  without  her  imagining  Christian  knew 
anything  of  it. 

- "  The   poor  woman !  "  said  he.      ' '  But   perhaps  she  does 
not  feel  her  misfortune." 

Lucie  shook  her  head  doubtingly.  "  Let  us  be  thankful  to 
(»od  for  that  which  He  has  given,"  said  she  ;  "  and  let  us  pray 
that  we  may  never  lose  that  which  we  possess  !  That  is  more 
important  than  to  fly  to  the  sun  or  go  to  the  North  Pole.  God 
has  given  to  every  one  of  us  so  much  that  it  is  certainly  sin  to 
desire  more  than  common  gifts." 

"  But  I  do  that,  however,"  said  Christian,  in  the  willfulness  of 
youth.  "  I  wish  to  be  famous,  or  I  wo  lid  rather  not  live." 


158  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  f 

"  Thou  art  quite  a  child  ! "  said  Lucie,  as  they  parted  from 
each  other. 

Christian  returned  again  the  same  way ;  some  one  seized 
him  by  the  arm  :  it  was  the  crazy  woman. 

"  Art  not  thou  the  son  of  the  Holy  Lazarus  ? "  asked  she  ; 
and  our  hero,  who  was  in  truth  no  hero  at  all,  but  who  yet 
wished  to  hunt  the  tiger  in  the  deserts  of  Africa,  and  to  make 
voyages  of  discovery  in  the  clouds  and  to  the  Pole,  became 
burning  hot  when  the  old  woman,  whose  mind  was  diseased, 
approached  him,  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  ran 
away.  It  was  very  well,  however,  that  nobody  saw  him. 

Bold  ideas  belong  to  youth;  they  throw  themselves  ventur- 
ously into  the  stream,  learn  to  swim,  and  often  reach  the  goal. 
Those  older  than  they,  deliberate,  attempt,  and  —  come  in  too 
late  ;  they  are  like  the  man  in  the  parable,  who  bury  in  the 
earth  the  money  confided  to  them,  whilst  the  more  daring  ven- 
tures with  it  and  wins.  Happy  youth !  to  thee  stand  open' 
a  hundred  ways  to  renown  and  fortune  ! 

A  great  many  extraordinary  ideas  arose  in  Christian's  soul ; 
but  every  new  thought,  every  new  idea,  like  the  Arab-steed  on 
the  race-course,  first  underwent  Lucie's  inspection,  yet  never 
came  to  a  proper  race.  As  a  matter  of  course,  she  shook  her 
head  and  called  him  a  child.  She  told  him  how,  when  she  was 
a  little  girl,  she  often  had  thought  about  seeking  for  a  great 
treasure,  which  should  make  her  the  richest  lady  in  the  world, 
and  that  she  had  taken  a  spade,  and  now  had  dug  in  the 
garden  and  now  in  the  field,  in  the  hope  of  meeting  with  a 
hidden  treasure.  Just  as  childish  as  this  did  she  now  regard 
every  high-flown  scheme  of  Christian's. 

After  every  such  conversation  Christian  always  went  home 
out  of  humor  ;  but  after  a  few  hours  the  good  understanding 
between  them  was  always  again  restored.  He  felt  that  Lucie 
was  certainly  right,  and  that  annoyed  him ;  and  every  arro- 
gant thought  which  he  had  expressed  aloud,  every  "  I  would 
be  famous,  or  I  would  rather  not  live,"  lay  upon  his  heart 
like  a  committed  sin.  If  he  were  then  alone,  he  prayed  God 
for  forgiveness,  and  felt  some  consolation.  But  it  was  sooc 
again  with  him  as  with  the  Catholic,  who,  after  he  has  ob« 
taired  absolution,  commits  fresh  sin. 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER !  159 

A  joy  was  now  in  prospect ;  it  had  already  been  talked  cf 
for  months  :  the  Count's  journey,  as  Mrs.  Knepus  called  it, 
was  to  take  place  this  winter.  It  was  now  five  years  since  the 
great  gentleman  had  spent  a  winter  upon  his  estate  in  Funen  ; 
and,  consequently,  it  had  been  so  long  since  the  professors 
and  artists  of  the  neighborhood  had  been  able  to  celebrate 
this  festal  birthday  at  the  splendid  country-seat. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Knepus  had  both  of  them  economy  before 
their  eyes,  and  the  preparations  for  the  journey  were  made  in 
all  respects  with  regard  to  this  subject.  They  hired  an  old 
worn-out  coach,  and  packed  in,  first  the  provisions,  then  the 
violin-case,  and,  last  of  all,  the  gentleman  and  lady  :  Christian 
had  his  place  between  these  two.  On  the  back-seat  there 
came  in,  as  travelling  companions,  a  civil  officer,  together 
with  his  wife,  nurse-maid,  and  child.  In  order  to  keep  in  the 
warmth,  a  bed  cover  was  laid  right  across  the  knees  of  the 
assembled  travelling  associates.  Directly  over  Christian's  head 
hung  a  lantern,  which  nearly  singed  off  his  hair ;  and  there 
lay  upon  the  bed-quilt  a  fox-and-goose  board,  because  they 
intended  to  play  for  pastime.  They  chose  the  night  for  their 
journey  out,  that  they  might  arrive  at  the  hall  with  the  morn- 
ing hour,  and  determined  to  employ  the  following  night  for 
their  return.  By  this  means  the  lodging  for  the  night  was 
dispensed  with,  gratuities  to  servants  saved,  and  the  cost  of  the 
carriage  was  less  by  twelve  hours ;  which,  being  all  put  to- 
gether, made  up  a  very  considerable  saving. 

In  a  closed  carriage  they  managed  to  sleep  quite  gloriously ; 
and  the  nocturnal  tour  reminded  Mr.  Knepus  vividly  of  the 
journey  which  he  had  made  many  years  before  in  North 
Germany  with  the  diligence. 

There  was  nothing  very  characteristic  to  remark  about  the 
other  well-packed-in  married  couple.  The  lady  had  once  had 
a  severe  nervous  fever,  and,  therefore,  she  dated  all  her 
reminiscences  from  "  before  "  and  "  after  "  the  great  sickness. 
Of  the  husband  there  is  still  less  of  the  remarkable  to  relate, 
and  we  must  take  a  leap  back  of  several  years  in  order  to  find 
only  one  trait  worthy  of  our  attention  :  he  was  at  that  time  an 
admirer  of  the  Travels  of  Mr.  Nicolai,  "  Italy  as  it  really  is." 

The  snow  lay  deep  and  kept  the  farmers'  corn-fields  warm 


1 6O  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  ! 

in  the  severe  f'ost,  but  the  roads  were  well  tracked.  Quicki) 
rolled  away  the  carriage  in  the  dusk  of  night.  Christian  was 
very  happy. 

In  the  public-house  of  the  village,  which  was  yet  about  ten 
or  twelve  miles'  distance  from  the  hall,  they  spent  some  hours, 
in  order  that  they  might  not  make  their  appearance  too  early 
as  guests  with  the  great  folks. 

The  rosy-tinged  morning  clouds,  the  white  snow,  and  the 
green  fir-woods,  presented  a  very  cheerful  prospect.  Not  far 
from  the  blacksmith's  forge  hung,  upon  the  summit  of  a  poplar- 
tree  which  had  been  cut  down,  an  empty  stork's  nest ;  the 
former  possessor  of  which  now,  perhaps,  took  his  morning 
draught  from  the  fountains  of  the  Nile.  Christian  looked 
upon  this  with  the  same  pensive  recollection  which  creeps  over 
us  when  we  again  find  the  withered  flowers  which  we  once, 
as  children,  had  laid  in  our  Bible. 

And  now  the  hall  of  the  nobleman,  with  its  many  stables 
and  out-buildings,  lay  before  them.  The  residence  itself  con- 
sisted of  two  portions,  the  old  and  the  new  hall.  The  road 
wound  itself  around  the  old  castle-ditches,  which,  to  be  sure, 
were  now  frozen  over,  but  which,  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen, 
were  well  kept  up.  The  old  hall,  with  its  thick  red  walls, 
small  windows,  its  tower  and  loop-holes,  indicated  that  no  great 
convenience  might  be  expected  there ;  but  all  the  more  was 
that  promised  by  the  new  building  of  two  modern  stories. 
One  entered  this  in  the  centre  by  a  broad  flight  of  stone- 
steps,  the  lowest  flight  of  which  was  adorned  by  two  sphinxes. 
The  principal  story  was  not  unlike  a  large  hot-house.  Trees 
and  flowers  of  southern  climates  stood  on  both  sides,  and  the 
cold  floor  was  covered  with  carpets.  Here  all  was  warm  and 
beautiful. 

Every  requisite  which  belongs  to  the  winter  enjoyments  of 
a  Danish  country-seat  was  here  assembled  in  abundance. 
Upon  the  castle-ditches  sledges  were  whirling  around  a  lofty 
pole,  upon  which  waved  the  Danish  flag.  Within  the  narrow 
hazel  avenue  a  slide  ran  down  from  a  tolerably  considerable 
height ;  and  there  were  reared  upon  the  great  bleaching-ground 
two  colossal  snow-men,  with  eyes  of  coal  and  shields  of  ice, 
and  with  hop-poles,  down  which  water  had  been  poured.,  foi 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  l6l 

Icy  spears  in  their  hands.  Between  these  two  knights  of  snow 
was  placed  the  cannon  which  was  fired  when  the  healths  were 
drunk. 

Dilettanti,  among  whom  were  a  clergyman  and  a  burgo- 
master, played,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Knepus,  behind  a 
green  curtain  in  a  side  room.  Upon  the  table  lay  rich  birth- 
day presents  ;  and  among  these  stood  a  flower  piece  of  Naomi's 
work,  which,  faithful  to  nature,  was  composed  from  three  other 
similar  pictures.  The  delicate  sylph-like  girl,  who  was  advanc 
ing  from  childhood  to  maidenly  years,  and  who  possessed, 
in  a  high  degree,  the  beauties  of  both  periods  of  life,  stood 
near  a  savage  dog  of  which  she  was  particularly  fond.  The 
great  creature  laid  his  black  feet  upon  her  white  shoulders, 
whilst  his  red  tongue  hung  from  his  mouth.  The  beautiful 
girl  seemed,  in  fact,  to  be  no  more  than  sufficient  for  a  slight 
breakfast  for  the  dangerous  animal ;  but  it  wagged  its  tail  in 
a  friendly  manner,  and  her  delicate  hand  caressed  it.  Naomi 
smiled  ;  she  and  the  mastiff  seemed  to  be  excellent  friends. 

"  That  wild  girl !  "  said  the  old  Countess.  "  She  once  terri- 
fied me  to  death  ;  my  life  hangs  only  on  a  thin  thread.  Now 
she  lets  that  mad  animal  loose  that  could  eat  people  up ;  now 
she  goes  galloping  on  the  most  furious  horse,  without  saddle, 
through  wood  and  field.  The  dear  God  takes  care  of  her,  or 
she  must  long  ago  have  been  a  cripple.  If  I  had  only  a 
fourth  part  of  her  nature  it  would  do  me  more  good  than  all 
my  drops  and  my  mixtures." 

The  pale  old  Countess  after  this  seated  herself  on  the  sofa, 
and  entertained  herself  with  the  lady  whose  recollections  all 
"ook  their  date  from  "  before  "  and  "  after  "  her  great  illness. 

"  Now  there  is  here  quite  a  new  sort  of  malady  broke  out," 
said  she  ;  "  people  call  it  the  red-hound." 

"  I  must  have  had  this  sickness  of  a  certainty,"  rep-;ed  the 
Countess ;  "  because  I  have  had  all  sorts  of  illnesses,  and 
have  had  them  to  a  much  greater  degree  than  anybody  else. 
I  know  the  whole  apothecary's  shop  by  heart,  and  could  show 
you  a  press  quite  full  of  medicine-bottles,  boxes  of  ointment, 
and  pill-boxes.  I  only  just  taste  of  them,  for  they  do  me  no 
good  at  all.  Ah  !  even  for  the  little  excursions  which  I,  weak 
woman,  allow  myself,  I  am  obliged  to  provide  myself  with 


IO2  ONLY  A   FWLLERl 

medicaments.  I  was,  during  the  last  week,  at  a  great  soiree 
at  the  bailiffs,  and  amused  myself;  but  I  can  assure  you  that 
I  went  there  with  sour  dough  under  the  soles  of  my  feet,  and 
iii  that  condition  I  sat  at  the  card-table.  I  am  very  sickly, 
and  yet  the  physician  smiles  whenever  I  complain  to  him  of 
my  sufferings.  He  knows  very  well  that  I  shall  never  get 
better,  and  on  that  account  he  does  not  pay  me  the  attention 
which  in  all  reason  he  ought  to  do.  I  become  dizzy  immedi- 
ately when  I  see  a  mill." 

Whilst  this  conversation  was  carried  on  half  aloud,  the 
music  was  playing.  Naomi  was  captivated  by  it ;  she  stood 
at  the  window  and  amused  herself  the  while  by  bringing  the 
Count's  tulips  to  earlier  bloom  by  blowing  into  their  buds. 
A  violin  solo  now  began,  the  bold  execution  of  which  excited 
attention. 

"  Charmant  /"  cried  the  old  Countess,  quite  forgetting  her 
maladies. 

Naomi  drew  the  curtain  aside,  and  there  stood  in  the  midst 
of  the  musicians,  behind  the  low  music  desk,  the  scholar  of 
Mr.  Knepus,  Christian,  with  the  violin  on  his  shoulder. 

"  We  have,  certainly,  already  seen  one  another  !  "  said  the 
Count :  "  but  where  ?  " 

"  In  Copenhagen/'  replied  Christian,  in  a  modest  tone. 

"  He  has  been  confided  to  my  instruction,"  said  Mr. 
Knepus. 

From  all  sides  the  tribute  of  applause  was  awarded  to  him. 
Naomi  also  smiled  with  unspeakable  sweetness  upon  him,  and 
spoke  a  long  time  to  him,  only  not  of  former  days. 

What  a  time  of  joy  and  of  happiness  was  this  festival. 

The  company  walked  to  the  slide.  Naomi  here  was  more 
courageous  than  a  boy  ;  Christian  held  her  back. 

"  You  dare  not  get  in  ? "  asked  Naomi  of  him ;  and  he 
mounted  into  the  sledge  only  to  tumble  out  of  it,  yet  without 
any  further  consequences  to  himself  than  that  of  hearing  Na- 
omi say  to  a  by-stander,  "  How  clumsy !  " 

That  made  him  silent.  He  dared  not  any  further  to  ad- 
dress her ;  but  all  the  more  passionately  did  his  glance  fol- 
low her. 

Before  dinner  he  had  once  more  to  play,  and  by  this  means 


ONLY  A  fWDLERl  l6j 

he  was  again  in  his  true  position.  The  old  Countess  con- 
versed with  him,  and  when  she  was  made  acquainted  with 
his  parentage  she  appeared  particularly  well-informed  of  his 
earlier  convulsive  fits,  which  were  now  quite  cured ;  and 
spoke  also  of  Lucie  and  her  illness.  "  Yes,  all  sick  people 
•n  this  neighborhood  are  known  to  me.  I  will  now  candidly 
confess  that,  according  to  my  own  opinion,  there  may  be 
individuals  whose  sufferings  may  be  more  severe  than  mine  ; 
but  those  are  stronger  constitutions,  which  have  less  to  en- 
dure in  their  greater  suffering  than  the  sensitive  by  even  .ess 
acute  pain  :  and  I  am  so  infinitely  sensitive  !  " 

One  might  almost  have  believed  that  the  interest  which 
people  showed  for  Christian  was  as  much  on  account  of  his 
former  infirmities  as  for  his  present  musical  talent.  They 
insisted  upon  his  remaining  for  a  few  days  at  the  hall ;  there 
would  be  a  very  good  opportunity  for  him  to  return  to  Odense, 
as  the  Count,  in  a  few  days,  was  going  to  set  out  on  his  jour- 
ney to  England,  and  would  travel  through  Odense. 

The  table  was  arranged  festively ;  the  dazzlingly  white 
napkins  stood  like  fans  out  of  the  tall  champagne-glasses  ; 
the  lights  beamed  from  massive  silver  chandeliers.  Every 
gentleman  selected  for  himself  a  lady ;  Naomi  avoided  every 
one  ;  she  approached  Christian. 

"  Will  the  gentleman  artist  be  my  cavalier  ? "  asked  she, 
as  she  placed  her  arm  within  his  and  thus  led  him  to  table. 
He  became  crimson,  and  conducted  himself  awkwardly. 

Naomi  whispered  into  the  ear  of  the  gouvernante,  "  Thus 
shall  we  sit  at  table  in  the  other  world  —  the  bird  of  paradise 
and  the  crow  near  to  each  other.  But  you  must  really  enter- 
tain your  lady  !  "  said  she  to  Christian  j  "  or,  if  you  will  be 
.he  lady,  then  I  will  be  gentleman."  And  now  she  filled  his 
glass. 

Christian  felt  that  Naomi's  facility  in  conversation,  hei 
liveliness  —  in  short,  it  was  a  concerted  plan.  It  was  a  kind 
of  jesting  which  she  was  carrying  on  with  him,  in  which,  how- 
ever, a  certain  affection  lay.  His  whole  soul  belonged  to 
her ;  of  that  he  became  more  and  more  convinced.  Again 
and  again  she  filled  his  glass  ;  and,  without  thinking  upon 
the  possible  consequences,  he  drank  glass  after  glass.  The 


164  ONLY  A   FIDDLER) 

blood  began  to  flow  quicker  in  his  veins ;  he  became  more 
lively. 

"  He  is  coming  out,"  said  Naomi.  Near  to  them  sat  the 
fair  Ludwig,  the  son  of  the  police-master,  who,  out  of  jealous 
despair  of  three  others,  betook  himself  to  her,  which  should 
be  a  very  rational  means  against  an  unfortunate  passion  ; 
and  Naomi  still  more  increased  his  pangs  by  letting  him  see 
the  devotion  which  she  paid  to  Christian. 

"  Life  to  her  whom  you  love,"  said  Naomi  softly  to  him, 
as  she  touched  her  glass  to  his. 

"  It  is  you  ! "  said  Christian,  whose  tongue  the  wine  had 
released. 

The  company  now  rose  from  table ;  Naomi  avoided  him. 
He  drew  himself  back  with  embarrassment,  and  did  not  ven- 
ture to  approach  her.  Deeply  he  perceived  how  very  much 
he  yet  wanted  to  fit  him  for  entering  the  higher  world. 

Dancing  began.  Neither  in  that  could  he  take  any  part ; 
he  did  not  know  how  to  take  a  step.  Naomi  flew  like  a  but- 
terfly through  the  saloon ;  exercise  made  her  once  more  as 
amiable  as  before  ;  the  blood  glowed  through  the  fine  skin 
of  her  cheeks  ;  and  her  dark  complexion  gained  increased 
beauty  through  the  artificial  light.  She  was  especially  cap- 
tivating ;  a  glorious  Mignon,  only  too  slenderly  formed  for 
a  child  of  the  south. 

"  She  will  dance  herself  into  a  fever  !  "  said  the  old  Coun- 
tess. 

Mr.  Patermann,  the  chaplain  at  the  hall,  with  his  repulsively 
mawkish  smile  around  his  lips,  was  of  the  same  opinion.  It 
was  with  these  two,  with  regard  to  dancing,  as  it  is  with  the 
dogs  and  water  —  they  had  done  without  it  until  they  had 
an  abhorrence  of  it. 

Naomi  did  not  seem  to  trouble  herself  at  all  about  Chris- 
tian. The  fair  Ludwig  was  now  the  favored  one.  But  Chris- 
tian could  not  dance.  All  at  once  she  stood  before  him, 
laid  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  and  flew  with  him  away  in 
whirling  mazes.  Everything  spun  round  with  him,  yet  he 
iid  not  dare  to  leave  hold  of  her.  He  trod  upon  her  foot  j 
struck  his  knee  against  hers. 

"  I'm  so  unwell !  "  sighed  he  ;  and  she  let  him  sink  down 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER:  165 

upon  a  chair,  laughed  at  him,  and  floated  with  another  partner 
through  the  hall. 

An  American  author  relates  that  the  elk,  when  wounded  by 
the  hunter,  separates  itself  from  the  herd  and  retires  to  soli- 
tude to  die.  Christian  felt  a  similar  instinct ;  he  left  the 
dancing-hall,  for  he  was,  among  the  high-flying  ones,  a  bird 
with  a  broken  wing. 

The  servant  lighted  him  across  the  court-yard  to  the  old 
hall,  for  all  the  rooms  were  occupied  in  the  new  one.  They 
entered  by  a  low  portal  into  the  narrow  hall,  which  had 
once  received  the  whole  castle-court,  ascended  thence  a  wind- 
ing staircase,  and,  after  passing  through  various  lofty  old-fash- 
ioned rooms,  arrived  at  a  little  chamber  which  had  been  pre- 
pared in  haste  for  a  sleeping-room.  Arms  of  all  kinds,  and  a 
quantity  of  riding-whips,  hung  round  about  the  walls  of  the 
little  apartment. 

"  There  is  your  sleeping-room,"  said  the  servant  as  he 
lighted  the  night-lamp.  "  And  here  hangs  the  ancestral  lady, 
who  will  watch  over  you  whilst  you  sleep,"  added  he,  with  a 
smiling  countenance,  throwing  the  light  upon  a  picture  of  a 
lady  in  the  costume  of  the  Middle  Ages,  which  hung  over  the 
door.  That  which  was  most  remarkable,  however,  was,  that 
the  lady  had  an  iron  chain  around  the  neck,  which  hung  down 
over  her  shoulders  and  breast. 

"  That  was  a  valiant  lady,"  said  the  servant :  "  she  had  not, 
indeed,  such  a  great  apothecary's  bill  as  our  old  Countess. 
She  had  a  quarrel  with  her  neighbor,  who  made  her  his  pris- 
oner, put  a  chain  around  her  neck,  and  had  it  riveted  to  the 
dog-kennel.  Those  were  times  !  On  that  they  drunk  and  ca- 
roused ;  but  the  ancestress,  in  the  mean  time,  got  loose  her 
chain,  came,  happily,  to  her  own  castle,  and  then  called  out 
her  people  to  fall  upon  the  noble.  See  you,  for  that  reason 
she  had  herself  painted  with  her  chain  about  her  neck." 

The  servant  now  withdrew,  and  Christian  was  left  alone 
with  his  thoughts  of  the  picture  of  the  valiant  lady. 

She  had  eyes  quite  as  dark  as  NaomL     So  bold  and  brave 
would  Naomi  also  have  been.     He  looked  through  the  win 
iow,  but  the  glass  was  so  thick  and  burnt  with  the  sun  that 
ne  was  only  able  to  see  the  light  shining  in  the  new  house 


1 66  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  I 

He  thought  upon  that  evening  in  Copenhagen,  how  he  hung 
as  ship-boy  in  the  wet  cordage  and  saw  Naomi  also  then  float- 
ing away  joyfully  in  the  dance.  He  thought  of  the  hours 
which  were  just  passed  —  of  his  wants  —  of  his  imperfections, 
and  all  his  destroyed  hopes. 

A  little  after  midnight  he  woke  ;  he  heard  the  departure  of 
Mr.  Knepus,  and  was  nothing  less  than  glad  that  he  remained 
behind. 

What  a  healing  power  is  there  in  sleep,  when  it  is  a  youth- 
ful heart  which  is  to  be  healed  ! 

The  sunshine  already  lit  up  the  picture  of  the  ancestress  as 
Christian  awoke  from  sleep,  and  the  heavy  chains  around  the 
neck  of  the  lady  were  the  first  subject  which  occupied  his 
mind. 

"  I  also  bear  such  fetters  !  I  am  not  much  better  off  than 
if  I  were  riveted  to  a  dog-kennel,  whilst  others  rejoice  them- 
selves in  the  dance  !  But  I  also  will  rend  the  chains  !  I  will 
some  day  come  forth  as  a  great  artist,  and  people  shall  bow 
themselves  before  the  power  of  my  genius.  As  in  Joseph's 
dream  the  sheaves  of  all  the  others  bowed  themselves  before 
his  individual  sheaf,  so  shall  it  likewise  be  with  me  ;  and  then 
I  too,  will  have  myself  painted,  but  not  with  the  sign  of  the 
yoke  which  I  have  borne,  but  hand-in-hand  with  Naomi.  She 
is  as  beautiful,  as  wondrously  beautiful  as  the  angels  of  God, 
only  not  so  good.  But  who  can  be  so  ?  " 

And  he  kneeled  down  and  prayed  to  God  that  his  beautiful 
dream  might  be  accomplished. 

In  the  forenoon,  the  old  Countess  wished  to  see  all  the 
guests  assembled  around  her.  The  chocolate  was  served  in 
the  old  hall,  which  was  only  inhabited  by  herself  and  the  do- 
mestics appointed  especially  to  wait  upon  her. 

The  way  to  her  rooms,  which  at  least  in  the  last  century, 
had  suffered  no  essential  change,  was  by  the  winding  staircase 
in  the  tower.  Old  grim  tapestry,  which  represented  an  an- 
cient wood,  out  of  which  there  appeared  here  and  there  the 
antlers  of  a  stag,  ornamented  the  walls  of  the  sitting-room. 
A  large  stove  of  porcelain  was  erected  before  the  walled-up 
chimney,  and  was  adorned  with  sphinxes  of  gray  stone. 
Through  an  enormous  press,  the  doors  of  which  were  hung 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I  167 

with  carpeting,  one  descended  into  the  lower  rooms.  The 
chairs  and  sofa  had  an  equally  antique  appearance,  ard  the 
only  modern  object  with  which  this  room  was  furnished  was  a 
plaster-of-Paris  Napoleon,  which  stood  upon  an  old  pyramid  ; 
upon  all  the  spiral  rings  of  which  were  placed  medicine-bottles, 
ointment,  pill-boxes,  and  such  like  trophies  of  sickness  which 
tier  ladyship  had  subdued.  Thus  to  place  the  hero  of  war 
arnid  the  trophies  of  a  lady  —  that  was  not  at  all  a  bad  idea. 
People  must  do  things  as  well  as  they  can  ! 

"  Here  is  my  residence,"  said  the  Countess.  "  Through  the 
whole  of  the  winter  the  new  building  stands  desolate  ;  then 
everything  is  according  to  the  old  regime,  and  the  lights  shine 
here  —  alas,  they  are  the  lights  beside  a  sick  bed  !  " 

The  guests  had  not  yet  arrived.  Naomi  stood  upon  a  chair, 
that  she  might  examine  the  contents  of  the  uppermost  drawer 
of  an  old  exquisitely  carved  cabinet. 

"  Thou  art  a  true  Eulenspiergel,"  said  the  Countess.  "  Do 
get  down,  for  the  company  is  coming." 

"  It  is  not  every  day  that  the  holy  of  holies  is  to  be  seen," 
said  Naomi,  with  a  jeering  smile.  "  You  have  allowed  me  to 
look  in  here." 

"There  is  nothing  but  old  rubbish  in  there,"  replied  the 
Countess  ;  "  souvenirs  of  fifty  years  ago." 

"  And  this  portrait  of  a  lady,"  inquired  Naomi ;  "  why  does 
it  lie  here  ?  She  is  beautiful,  but  she  is  like  a  Jewess." 

The  old  Countess  fixed  her  eyes  upon  the  picture,  and  then 
turned  them  upon  Naomi  with  the  words,  "  That  is  the  picture 
of  thy  deceased  mother  !  " 

With  that  there  was  a  pause.  Naomi  was  the  first  who 
again  spoke. 

"  My  mother  !  "  said  she :  "  she,  however,  at  least,  shall  not 
lie  among  the  old  things."  And  she  concealed  the  miniature 
in  her  bosom. 

"  Do  come  down  and  shut  the  cabinet !  The  company  is 
coming !  "  said  the  Countess.  "  You  put  my  blood  quite 
jnto  a  commotion  ;  and  yet  you  know  that  I  cannot  bear  it." 

"  Tell  me  about  my  mother ! "  said  Naomi,  gravely. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about,  child  ? "  replied  the  old 
iady ;  "  that  would  not  amuse  you."  She  turned  herself 


1 68  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  1 

about ;  the  strangers  entered,  and  the  conversation  wai 
thereby  interrupted. 

Christian  was  again  desired  to  play.  He  followed  his  OWQ 
fantasies,  because  Mr.  Knepus  was  not  present.  Naomi  sat 
sunk  in  deep  thought,  and  her  eye  seemed  to  rest,  dreamily, 
upon  him.  Thus  he  had  never  seen  her  before.  She  admires 
me,  thought  he,  and  this  thought  inspired  him.  So  silent 
Naomi  had  never  before  been  seen. 

There  was  to  be  a  game  of  battledore  and  shuttlecock 
played  in  the  new  hall>  and  thither,  accordingly,  went  the 
company.  Naomi  remained  behind  with  the  old  Countess, 
took  her  hand  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  seriousness  very  striking 
for  her  age,  "  Tell  me  about  my  mother  !  I  must  and  I  will 
know  the  whole  !  " 

"  You  terrify  me  with  your  violence,"  replied  the  Countess. 
"  Go  across  to  the  strangers,  and  take  part  in  the  game  ;  that 
is  better." 

"  You  still  always  treat  me  like  a  child,  which  I  am  no 
longer,  and  therefore  I  will  know  something  more  about  my 
own  self.  I  am  no  stranger,  which  you  took  to  live  with  you 
out  of  compassion.  I  am  actually  that  which  I  ought  only  to 
appear,  the  daughter  of  your  son,  and  you  are  my  grand- 
mother. It  has  been  thoughtless  of  me,  that  I  have  lived  so 
long  among  you  without  making  any  inquiry  about  my  mother. 
Only  twice  have  I  mentioned  her  in  my  father's  presence,  and 
both  times  he  rose  up  angrily,  and  left  me  without  replying  to 
my  questions.  Neither  would  you  at  any  time  tell  me  any- 
thing about  her,  and  I  have  in  my  frivolity  let  it  pass  by,  and 
almost  forgotten  the  affair.  But  to-day,  now  that  I  have  found 
her  portrait,  I  will  know  more  about  her,  and  you  shall  give 
me  information  respecting  her." 

"  Naomi,  you  know  how  delicate  I  am,"  said  the  old  lady  ; 
"  do  not  torment  me,  —  because  I  neither  can  nor  will  gratify 
your  wishes.  Neither  are  such  histories  as  those  fit  for  your 
years  !  No  !  in  course  of  time  when  I,  probably,  shall  have 
long  been  resting  in  my  grave,  my  son  will  tell  you  about 
those  things.  Go  now  into  the  anteroom  and  fetch  me  my 
brown  cloak." 

"  You  want  to  get  me  out  of  the  room,"  said  Naomi,  "  that 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  1 69 

you  may  fasten  the  bolt,  and  then  not  let  me  in  again !  Tha. 
you  have  done  before  now !  Grandmother,  you  know  my 
character  :  in  the  castle-ditch  there  is  a  hole  broken  in  the 
ice  ;  I  will  throw  myself  into  it,  if  you  will  not  immediately 
tell  me  that  which  I  desire  to  know." 

"  You  are  a  detestable  girl  !  "  said  the  old  Countess  ;  "  you 
treat  me,  a  weak  lady,  very  ill.  I  will  yield  to  your  wishes  ; 
but  that  which  you  desire  to  know  will  become  only  a  thorn 
in  your  own  breast."  The  old  and  otherwise  sickly  and  pale- 
looking  lady  became  at  these  words  of  a  feverish  crimson,  and 
her  speech  became  quicker.  "  You  are  not  of  my  blood,  and 
not  of  the  blood  of  my  son,"  continued  she :  "  it  is  a  folly,  a 
weakness  in  him,  that  he  for  some  time  believed  this." 

As  an  electric  shock  acted  the  next  words  of  the  old  lady. 

"  The  old  Jew  of  Svendborg  was  thy  grandfather,"  said 
she  ;  "  his  daughter  was  handsome  —  handsomer  than  thou 
wilt  be.  She  was  gouvernante  at  the  hall  —  she  was  a  sen>ant 
here.  Dost  thou  understand  me  ?  —  she  was  a  servant  here  ! 
But  she  had  good  sense  and  was  well  read,  and  therefore  we 
treated  her  as  one  of  the  family.  My  son  Fritz  fell  in  love 
with  her,  his  father  opposed  it,  and  your  mother  was  obliged 
to  return  to  her  father.  Fritz  now  took  a  journey,  and  we 
attended  to  our  own  affairs ;  but  they  kept  up  a  correspond- 
ence, and  seemed  only  to  live  for  their  love,  although  certain 
people  did  not  speak  well  of  your  mother.  There  lived  in 
Svendborg  a  musician,  a  native  of  Norway,  who  came  to  your 
grandfather's  house,  and  became  the  confidant  of  your  mother 
—  yes,  was  very  intimate  with  her.  Fritz  returned  from  his 
journey  —  we  believed  that  all  was  forgotten;  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  chase,  but  his  rides  a-hunting  were  only  visits 
to  Svendborg.  I  perceived  it,  and  I  knew  what  a  sinful  life 
they  led  —  worse  than  you  can  imagine.  It  is  foolish  to  talk 
with  you  about  such  things  !  I  told  Fritz  what  I  had  heard  ; 
but  he  had  confidence  in  the  love  of  your  mother,  until  he 
once  found  the  house-friend  with  her.  In  short,  you  are  not 
of  noble  Danish  blood  —  perhaps  of  Norwegian  !  My  Fritz 
was  now  convinced,  and  became  a  rational  man  again.  When 
you  were  born  your  mother  wrote  lamentable  letters  about 
you  j  and  at  last  she  put  an  end  to  her  own  life,  because  Fritz 


170  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

would  not  listen  to  her  fiction.  That  was  all  for  effect,  and  it 
served  its  purpose.  She  was  buried,  and  you  came  to  us.  I 
myself  went  and  fetched  you  from  Svendborg." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  communication/'  said  Naomi,  calmly, 
but  pale  as  the  wall ;  "  I  am  then  of  the  Norwegian,  and  not 
Danish  nobility.  Well,  I  have  always  had  more  delight  in 
Oehlenschlager's  '  Hakon  Jarl '  than  in  his  '  Palnatoke.' 
Shall  I  now  go  over  there  and  play  at  ball  ? " 

"  Child,"  replied  the  Countess,  "  you  are  excited  !  —  I  never 
knew  any  one  like  you !  You  do  not  yet  understand  the  nature 
of  the  history  you  have  heard.  O,  there  will  come  a  time 
when  you  will  shed  tears  of  blood  over  that  which  you  have 
heard  this  hour !" 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Naomi,  "  that  my  mother  was  beauti- 
ful, that  she  was  possessed  of  good  sense,  and  that  she  had 
the  courage  to  die  when  she  was  deeply  wounded.  Her  por- 
trait shall  hang  in  my  chamber ;  I  will  garland  it  with  flowers, 
and  to  it  shall  all  my  kisses  belong.  Now  I  can  go  and  play 
at  shuttlecock  with  the  strangers  !  " 

With  a  smiling  countenance  she  left  the  Countess  ;  alone 
upon  the  stairs  in  the  old  tower  she  remained  standing,  and 
wept  bitter  tears.  Ten  minutes  afterward  the  gay,  loudly 
jesting  Naomi  was  seen  playing  at  shuttlecock.  Instinct  taught 
her,  that  tears  only  excited  sympathy  where  a  similar  sense  of 
suffering  existed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

'  Beside  his  pillow  sat  the  maid 
And  fixed  a  look  upon  him 
For  which  a  kingdom  might  be  paid  — 
But  ah  !  what  ails  thy  heart  ?  " 

TEGNER'S  AxtL 

THE  old  Countess  has  circumvented  me,"  thought  Naomi : 
"  she  wishes  to  wound  me,  and  has  invented  the  whole 
story,  or  else  she  has  received  a  false  report  for  true.  I  must 
and  will  find  out  the  truth  of  the  whole  affair  !  "  And  she  now 
hung  upon  the  Count  with  flattering  words,  who  often  spoke  to 
her  of  their  soon  being  separated  for  a  long  time. 

"  For  two  years  we  shall  not  see  each  other,"  said  he  ;  "  I 
shill  then  return,  and  you  shall  go  with  me  to  Paris  and 
London  —  to  the  gay  and  magnificent  London  !  " 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  me,"  replied  Naomi,  "  and  you  are 
the  only  one  toward  whom  my  thoughts  and  my  whole  wishes 
incline.  Other  people  whom  I  know,  and  whom  I  must  en- 
dure, I  only  like  for  my  own  sake  ;  they  amuse  me,  and  I  need 
them,  but  they  frequently  are  infinitely  tedious  to  me." 

"  They  do  not  indulge  you  in  everything,  as  I  do,"  said  the 
Count. 

"  You  ? "  repeated  she,  as  she  looked  inquiringly  into  his 
eyes,  —  "  you  yield  to  me  ?  No  !  not  one  single  time  have  you 
complied  with  my  most  innocent,  my  warmest  prayer,  and  on 
that  account  I  have  endured  mortifications  of  which  I  never 
once  dared  to  tell  you,  because  you  became  immediately  so 
violent,  so  stern,  and  cold  toward  me." 

She  laid  her  cheek  to  his,  twisted  his  hair  round  her  finger, 
and  seemed  to  hold  in  her  breath.  "  You  are  ashamed,"  said 
she,  "  to  call  me  your  daughter  before  the  world  ;  if  I  be  not 
so,  then  tell  me,  at  least,  whom  I  may  love  as  my  father." 

"  Me  ! "  said  the  Count ;  "  me  !  — you  are  my  child  1  '  But 


172  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  f 

h's  eye  became  dark,  gloomy  wrinkles  gathered  upon  his 
brow,  his  whole  demeanor  seemed  to  oppose  the  expression  of 
his  tongue. 

"And,  before  the  eyes  of  the  world,  who  are  my  parents?" 
asked  she  :"  the  daughter  of  a  Jew,  of  a  —  ?"  She  was  si- 
lent—  her  lips  moved  convulsively. 

"  Of  a  man  whose  name  you  shall  never  know,"  answered 
the  Count.  "  He  was  from  Norway.  He  is  dead,  and  he  died 
in  a  manner  worthy  of  him.  " 

"  O,  tell  me  about  it,  however !  "  besought  Naomi. 

"  No  !  "  returned  the  Count,  and  left  her. 

"  He  also  is  cruel ! "  said  Naomi :  "  one  human  being  tor- 
ments another.  Norman  alone  is  kind  and  faithful  to  me  ;  he 
regards  me  more  than  all  the  rest,  and  him  they  put  in  chains." 
She  went  down  below  into  the  court-yard  to  the  mastiff, 
caressed  him,  unfastened  his  chain,  and  led  the  dangerous 
creature  up  and  down  in  the  court :  and  he,  rejoicing  in  his 
liberty,  made  all  kinds  of  bounds,  whilst  his  steaming  tongue 
hung  out  from  his  jaws. 

"  Thou  dear  Norman  !  "  said  she.  "  A  Norman  must  also 
love  me  ;  and  for  the  sake  of  thy  name  I  will  give  thee  thy 
freedom." 

At  that  moment  Christian  was  returning  from  a  solitary 
ra/nble  in  the  garden.  The  thaw  which  had  commenced  had 
weakened  ihe  legs  of  one  of  the  snow-men,  and  his  lance  lay 
on  the  earth,  dropped  from  his  arm,  The  bell  sounded  for 
dinner —  Christian  left  the  garden.  The  moment  that  he  had 
opened  the  gate  he  perceived  Naomi  and  the  dog,  which  began 
to  bark,  and  to  show  his  teeth.  Naomi  laughed  aloud  when 
she  saw  how  much  Christian  was  frightened.  The  dog  sprang 
toward  him  ;  Christian,  however,  drew  back  into  the  garden, 
and  prayed  Naomi  to  fasten  the  dog. 

"  Poltroon  !  "  cried  she. 

At  that  moment  the  dog  tore  himself  loose,  sprang  against 
the  gate,  which  gave  way,  and  sprang  upon  Christian,  who 
uttered  a  cry  of  terror  as  he  saw  the  red  jaws  and  sharp  teeth 
of  the  animal  directed  to  him.  In  order  to  save  himself  he 
sprang  upon  the  snow-man,  and  seized  the  lance  with  both 
his  hands  at  the  very  moment  when  the  creature  took  hold 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  \  73 

apon  him.  The  snow-pile  fell  together  with  a  dull  sound, 
which  in  fact  was  a  great  piece  of  good  fortune,  because  the 
pieces  of  frozen  snow  and  ice,  which  flew  in  all  directions, 
frightened  the  dog  back. 

Several  people  ran  forward  at  his  cry  for  help.  Naomi 
stood,  as  if  petrified,  at  the  gate. 

"  He  bleeds  !     The  dog  has  bitten  him  !  "  they  cried. 

"  There,  you  see  the  consequences  of  your  barbarity  !  "  said 
the  Count,  who  hastened  up  at  that  moment,  and  who  cast  a 
severe  glance  on  Naomi. 

They  took  up  Christian. 

"  The  dog  shall  be  shot,"  said  the  Count. 

With  that  Naomi  sprung  forward  weeping,  and  prayed  for 
the  life  of  the  mastiff;  seized  Christian's  hand,  and  besoughl 
of  him,  with  looks  of  distress,  to  ask  for  the  life  of  her 
favorite.  Her  lips  touched  his  pale  cheek,  and  he  did  that 
for  which  she  had  prayed. 

The  surgeon  of  the  next  town  was  fetched.  Christian  had 
been  dangerously  bitten  by  the  enraged  animal ;  the  most 
careful  nursing  and  attention  were  bestowed  upon  him. 
Naomi  visited  him  ;  silently  and  gravely  she  seated  herself  by 
his  bed.  Christian  offered  her  his  hand,  as  a  token  of  recon- 
ciliation ;  and  in  order  to  say  something  agreeable  to  her,  he 
again  besought  for  the  life  of  the  dog. 

"I  fancy  that  I  could  get  to  love  ><m,"  said  Naomi,  in 
extraordinary  excitement,  whilst  she  looked  keenly  into  his 
pale  face  with  her  beaming  eyes. 

The  Count  now  set  out  on  his  journey,  but  it  was  not  to  be 
thought  of  that  Christian  could  already  return  to  Odense  ;  they 
therefore  informed  Mr.  Knepus,  by  letter,  of  the  disagreeable 
accident. 

"  Terror  and  trouble  rob  me  of  life,"  said  the  old  Countess, 
on  the  departure  of  her  son.  "  Now  you  leave  us,  and  I  feel 
that  we  shall  never  see  one  another  more.  When,  in  two 
years'  time,  you  return,  you  must  go  to  the  village  church,  into 
the  closed  chapel,  and  there  you  will  find  my  coffin." 

"  Ah,  mother,  that  belongs  to  a  novel,"  replied  the  Count. 

"  It  stands  written  in  your  mother's  heart !  "  said  the 
Countess,  gravely. 


174  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

The  Count's  journey  was  an  important  occurrence  on  the 
estate,  and  yet  we  only  give  the  information  of  it  by  saying 
that  he  set  off. 

Naomi  sat  in  Christian's  chamber.  Everything  betrayed 
how  dear  she  was  to  him,  and  that  caused  her  for  the  first  time 
to  feel  an  interest  in  him.  She  inquired  from  him  from  whom 
he  had  learned  to  play. 

"  From  my  godfather,  the  Norwegian,  in  Svendborg ; "  said 
Christian,  and  then  told  her  about  this  extraordinary  man.  "  I 
once  heard  a  story  related  about  a  magician  who  played  a  fiddle 
so  well  along  the  streets  that  the  children  came  out  of  the 
houses  and  ran  after  him.  He  then  went  into  a  mountain,  and 
the  children  vanished  as  he  did.  Even  so,  methinks,  could 
my  godfather  play.  He  had  learned  his  art,  he  said,  from  the 
Neck.  I  think,  too,  that  that  which  he  once  told  me  had  ref- 
erence to  himself.  There  was  once,  he  said,  a  poor  peasant- 
lad  in  Norway,  who  had  an  extraordinarily  great  desire  to  learn 
to  play  upon  the  violin.  His  father  would  hear  nothing  about 
it,  and  insisted  on  his  continuing  to  labor.  On  that  the  boy, 
one  evening,  stole  out  of  his  home,  and  went  with  his  fiddle 
toward  the  mountain-stream.  Neck  showed  himself  to  him 
out  of  the  water,  and  promised  him  that  he  would  teach  him 
to  play  yet  a  great  deal  better ;  seized  him  by  the  hand,  and 
pinched  his  finger  so  violently  that  it  bled.  From  that  time 
forth,  nobody  could  play  so  beautifully  as  himself;  everybody 
wished  to  hear  him,  and  he  gained  a  deal  of  money  by  his 
fiddle.  With  that,  his  father  now  permitted  him  to  devote  him- 
self entirely  to  his  art.  But  one  morning  when  he  was  return- 
ing from  a  wedding,  Neck  sat  upon  the  bridge,  and  said  he 
must  now  come  down  to  him  in  the  water,  and  remain  with 
him,  because  he  belonged  to  him.  On  hearing  these  words  he 
flew  faster  than  a  horse  could  gallop,  and  Neck  pursued  him ; 
but  he  flew  into  a  church,  and  to  the  altar,  else  Neck  would 
still  have  seized  upon  him." 

"  But  who  knows  whether,  after  all,  your  godfather  might 
not  be  Neck  himself?"  said  Naomi,  smiling.  Her  eyes 
beamed  —  the  blood  glowed  upon  her  beautiful  cheeks.  She 
questioned  him  still  more  ;  yes,  it  was  her  father  of  whom 
Christian  spoke :  he,  however,  saw  in  this  eagerness  only 


ONLY  A  HDDLERf  175 

sympathy  in  the  fate  of  his  godfather,  and  therefore  he  took 
up  the  thread  of  his  history  at  every  fresh  visit,  in  order  to 
please  Naomi.  She  was  made  acquainted  with  the  journey  to 
Thorseng,  their  meeting  in  the  Glorup  garden,  and  heard  of 
the  horrible  morning  when  the  godfather  was  found  hanging  in 
the  tree.  Naomi  smiled  ;  she  laid,  thoughtfully,  her  delicate 
hand  upon  her  brow. 

"  He  was  an  extraordinary  man,"  said  she  ;  "  but  he  was 
unfortunate,  and  that  is  much  more  interesting  than  being  a 
fortunate,  every-day  sort  of  person.  You,  too,  have  very  early 
in  life  had  quite  an  adventure ;  but  now  all  that  is  interesting 
is  over  :  you  are  now  arrived  at  the  wearisome  repose  in  which 
one  day  goes  quite  naturally  before  another.  On  the  flat, 
every-day  road,  one  never  attains  to  anything  out  of  the  com- 
mon way  ;  at  least  not  through  one's  self.  If  I  were  in  your 
place,  I  would  take  my  fiddle  upon  my  back  and  steal  away 
from  all  those  wearisome  people  who  are  all  just  alike  from 
the  trimmings  on  their  dress  to  the  black  cravat  round  the 
neck." 

"  What  would  then,  indeed,  become  of  me  ?  "  asked  Chris- 
tian ;  "  I  am  poor." 

"  O,  you  were  yet  a  great  deal  poorer  when  you  left  the 
house  of  your  parents !  "  suggested  Naomi.  "  Then  you  could 
not  play  as  you  now  can,  and  the  way  leads  still  to  your 
happiness.  If  you  should  for  once  know  hunger  for  a  day, 
or  if  your  couch  should  be  on  straw,  what  harm  then  ?  That 
would  really  make  your  life  very  interesting.  Only  think  how 
splendid  it  would  be  for  you,  when  you  are  become  a  great 
man,  to  look  back  upon  this  time  !  The  world  would  admire 
your  bold  step,  and  I  —  yes,  I  believe  that  I  could  then  love 
you.  But  otherwise  not !  No  !  no !  you  must  altogether 
turn  out  something  distinguished." 

With  these  words  she  seized  his  hand,  and  continued  to  de- 
scribe to  him  her  romantic  views  of  a  life  with  which  she  was 
not  acquainted.  It  flattered  that  proud,  self-willed  girl,  to  be 
guide  of  another.  She  gave  to  Christian  the  place  of  her  doll ; 
with  him  she  would  realize  her  romantic  dreams.  There  ex> 
isted  by  that  means  a  strong  sentiment  of  affection  for  Chris- 
tian, which  yet  was  very  different  from  love.  She  told  him 


176  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

about  foreign  countries,  of  celebrated  men  and  women,  and 
then  sighed  because  it  was  her  fate  to  have  been  a  girl. 
"  But,  however,  I  will  not,  at  least,  be  like  others !  "  asserted 
she. 

Christian  was  drawn  more  and  more  into  the  magical  circle 
with  which  she  surrounded  him  ;  all  his  thoughts,  all  his 
dreams,  turned  upon  adventures,  fame,  and  Naomi. 

The  blood  careered  feverishly  through  his  veins.  The 
night  lamp,  which  burned  by  his  bed,  was  nearly  extinguished  \ 
the  flame  sat  only  like  a  painted  speck  upon  the  wick. 

"  If  I  can  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer  to  the  end,"  said  he  to 
himself,  "  before  the  lamp  goes  out,  then  I  shall  one  day  be- 
come a  famous  man,  and  Naomi  will  be  my  wife ;  but  if  it 
goes  out,  then  I  am  lost  both  here  and  hereafter !  " 

He  folded  his  hands,  and  repeated  the  words  mechanically ; 
his  eyes  were  riveted  upon  the  lamp ;  the  flame  trembled  — 
more  rapidly  did  he  speak  the  words.  The  prayer  was  ended, 
and  still  the  lamp  burned. 

"  But  I  have  forgotten  '  deliver  us  from  evil ! '  The  whole 
goes  for  nothing,  and  I  must  again  repeat  the  prayer ;  if  it 
then  succeeds,  it  is  a  twofold  token."  And  he  said  once  more 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  lamp  burned  on.  "I  shall  be 
happy ! "  exclaimed  he  in  joy,  and  the  lamp  went  out 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  week. 

"  Next  Sunday  you  will  leave  us,"  said  Naomi,  as  she  again 
paid  a  visit  to  Christian.  "  The  physician  says  that  you  will 
soon  be  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  Remember,  then,  your 
promise  !  I  know  that  you  love  me,  but  I  can  bestow  my  love 
upon  no  ordinary  man,  and  you  can  only  become  an  every-day 
person  in  that  shop-keeping  Odense,  and  under  the  guidance 
of  that  foolish  Mr.  Knepus.  Venture  on  a  bold  step  in  the 
world  !  Here  you  shall  have,  what  nobody  knows  of  and  no- 
body shall,  a  hundred  rix-dollars  of  my  own  pocket-money ! 
Think  of  our  first  meeting  in  the  garden,  of  which  you  have 
told  me  ;  I  received  your  eyes  and  your  lips  as  a  pledge. 
You  are  now  mine  ;  I  have  a  portion  in  you.  As  soon  as 
ever  you  feel  yourself  quite  recovered,  you  will  venture  on  a 
bold  step.  Let  me  have  tidings  of  it,  and  the  night  upon 
which  you  begin  your  wandering  I  will  keep  awake  and  think 
of  you." 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  I 

"  I  will  do  everything  which  you  command  ! "  exclaimed  he, 
enraptured,  whilst  he  threw  his  arm  round  her  neck.  And 
she  sat  there  with  her  proud  smile,  and  permitted  him  calmly 
to  kiss  her  glowing  cheek. 

As  is  the  life's  coloring  in  the  heart,  so  is  the  world  mir- 
rored in  it.  If  we  had  on  this  evening  been  able  to  question 
Christian,  Naomi,  and,  for  example,  the  old  Countess  also, 
all  three  of  them  would  have  expressed  their  decided,  but  very 
different  opinions  about  it. 

To  Christian  the  world  was  a  temple  of  God,  in  which  the 
heart  opens  itself  to  God  and  love  ;  in  which  confidence  grows 
and  conviction  becomes  strengthened.  The  kiss  on  Naomi's 
beautiful  cheek  was  his  baptism  ;  the  sound  of  her  voice,  the 
powerful  organ-tones  which  gave  wings  to  his  soul. 

"The  world  is  a  great  masquerade-hall,"  thought  Naomi. 
"  One  must  play  one's  part  with  address ;  one  must  become 
imposing.  One  has  only  character  according  to  that  which 
one  can  rightly  do.  I  will  be  an  Amazon,  a  Madame  de 
Stael,  a  Charlotte  Corday,  or  whatever  circumstances  may 
best  allow." 

"  The  world  is  a  great  hospital,"  said  the  old  Countess. 
"  With  our  birth  begin  our  maladies ;  every  passing  hour 
brings  us  nearer  to  death.  One  can  make  one's  self  much 
worse  by  reading  doctors'  books  ;  an  innocent  glass  of  water 
may  contain  an  insect  which  may  grow  within  us  to  a  large 
beast.  One  may  have  a  gangrene,  one  the  palsy ;  one  may 
be  dropsical,  and  one  may  have  the  most  horrible  disorders 
which  end  only  in  death  ;  and  this  is  what  we  live  for  !  All 
people  are  sick,  but  some  conceal  their  sicknesses ;  others 
despise  them  ;  and  there  are  misguided  people,  without  nerves, 
but  full  of  unhealthy  blood  which  gives  red  cheeks,  who  carry 
about  with  them  the  false  idea  that  they  are  actually  healthy 
people  I '' 


CiiAi'lERXXV. 

**t/es  passions  sont  les  ver.'s  qui  font  aller  notre  vaisseau,  et  la  raison 
est  le  pilote  qui  le  conduit.  Le  vaisseau  n'irait  point  sans  les  vents  et  se 
perdrait  sans  le  pilote."  —  Esprit  des  Esprits. 

A  BEAUTIFUL  winter's  day,  when  the  hoar-frost  hangs 
on  the  boughs  of  the  trees,  and  the  black  ravens  float 
away  in  the  bright  sunshine  over  the  white  snow,  may  awaken 
in  us  the  desire  to  travel ;  but  very  different  to  this  was  the 
day  on  which  Christian  returned  to  Odense.  A  damp  fog  lay 
upon  the  whole  country;  naked,  skeleton-like  trees,  on  the 
boughs  of  which  hung  large  drops  of  water,  stood  up  amid  the 
dirty  snow  ;  —  and  yet  it  was  exactly  this  weather  which  awoke 
his  desire  to  go  forth  into  the  world,  a  longing  after  romantic 
adventures.  To  him  appeared  the  whole  domestic  circum- 
stances, which  awaited  him,  only  an  uninterrupted  succession 
of  wet  and  cold  days.  Only  forth !  and  all  would  be  changed 
into  sunshine  and  warmth,  he  thought. 

"  Here  my  fortune  would  be  as  long  in  developing  itself  as 
the  summer ;  I  will  leave  my  native  land,  therefore,  and  fly 
toward  my  happiness  !  " 

A  night's  sleep  under  the  domestic  roof,  where  was  no  Naomi 
to  inspire  him,  again  tranquillized  his  mind.  He  thought  on 
Peter  Vieck ;  he  recalled  to  himself  all  that  this  man  had 
done  for  him,  and  he  felt,  with  grief,  what  an  ill  return  he  had 
made  him. 

"  But  if  I  should  some  day  come  back  as  a  celebrated  man, 
what  a  surprise  and  joy  would  that  be  !  But  how  am  I  ta 
make  a  beginning  in  the  affair  ?  —  The  Bible  shall  be  my  ora- 
cle." 

He  opened  the  holy  book,  and  read  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Matthew  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  sick  of  the  palsy, 
*  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk  1 "  —  "  Yes,  God  wills  it  1 " 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  i'jy 

exclaimed  he  ;  "  He  speaks  to  me  by  the  means  of  His  holy 
word,  and  I  also  have  Naomi's  money !  This  monstrous  sum 
makes  me  richer  than  I  ever  was  before.  I  will  go  to  Ger- 
many." 

Not  in  the  least  did  Mr.  Knepus  imagine  what  occupied  the 
mind  of  his  scholar,  when  he  made  inquiries  about  a  journey 
to  Brunswick,  Goslar,  and  North  Germany.  He  formed  a 
sort  of  plan,  but  to  make  out  this  two  things  were  wanting— 
how  he  was  to  carry  out  the  proper  beginning,  and  how  he 
was  to  obtain  a  passport.  With  regard  to  the  last  impediment, 
Naomi  had  already  bethought  of  that,  and  she  knew  how  to 
obtain  the  needed  passport. 

The  fair  Ludwig,  the  son  of  the  police-director,  whose  stolen 
glances  at  Naomi  tolerably  well  expressed  the  notes  to  which 
the  nightingales  in  Persia  sing  to  the  roses,  must  furnish  the 
passport.  He  was,  indeed,  the  left  hand  in  the  police-office, 
of  which  his  father  was  the  right;  and  why  need  the  right 
hand  know  what  the  left  doeth  ?  He  must,  as  before  said, 
furnish  the  passport,  which  was  to  serve  for  several  European 
countries.  That  was  Naomi's  first  prayer,  and  he  must  ac- 
complish it.  He  had,  indeed,  love  and  youth,  those  bold 
twining  plants  which  are  able  to  bear  a  deal  without  breaking ! 
But  amid  the  folios  of  the  council-room  archives,  among  the 
dusty  beams  of  the  audience-chamber,  there  had  also  shot  up  a 
third  plant ;  that  was  circumspection,  and  of  it  the  beautiful 
Naomi  had  never  thought.  The  fair  Ludwig,  however,  had 
drank  of  the  leaves  of  this  plant  every  morning  and  every 
evening  in  his  tea,  and  therefore  he  brought  of  a  truth,  quite 
secretly  to  Naomi,  the  desired,  and,  as  she  had  directed,  pass- 
port for  various  European  countries  for  a  young  musician  of 
eighteen,  and  Christian's  name  stood  within  it ;  but  in  order 
to  make  it  unavailing,  the  description  of  Naomi's  person  was 
given  therein ;  —  the  dark,  sparkling,  gazelle-like  eyes  ;  the 
delicate,  slender  figure  ;  the  jet-black  hair  :  — only  she  alone 
could  make  use  of  the  passport.  Because  hers,  and  not  Chris- 
tian's, exterior  was  described  in  it,  he  indeed,  excused  himself 
with  the  assertion  that  her  image  floated  before  his  mind,  and 
that  she  occupied  his  whole  thoughts,  and  therefore  the  descrip- 
tion of  her  person  had  been  given  in  the  passport.  But  with 
this  passport  Christian  could  not  even  go  to  the  peninsula. 


ISO  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

He  had  chosen  the  festival  of  Easter  for  his  flight,  and 
for  this  end  he  intended  to  request  permission  to  go  and  visit 
his  mother  and  his  stepfather,  whom,  since  the  journey  to 
Copenhagen,  he  had  not  seen.  The  days  of  the  Lord's  suffer- 
ing and  captivity  in  the  grave  were  to  become  to  him  days 
of  joy  and  freedom.  What,  indeed,  could  he  learn  from  Mr. 
Knepus  ?  What  could  his  residence  in  Odense  avail  him  ? 

He  wrote  to  Naomi,  to  inform  her  of  his  determination,  and 
beside  that,  besought  her  earnestly  for  a  last  meeting  at  the 
little  inn,  which  lay  only  a  few  miles'  distance  from  the  es- 
tate. There  they  would  see  one  another  for  the  last  time,  in 
order  to  say  farewell  to  each  other.  The  letter  was  sent :  and 
he  was  now  firmly  determined,  like  Caesar  on  the  Rubicon. 
O  that  he  could  only  have  dared  to  have  confided  in  Lucie  ! 
But  that  he  ventured  not  to  do  ;  her  mind  ascended  not  so 
high ;  she  would  either  turn  him  to  ridicule,  or  else  she  would 
endeavor  to  dissuade  him  from  his  journey. 

The  important  day  approached,  and  Christian  strapped  up 
his  little  travelling-bag,  but  continually  undid  it  again,  as  he 
had  now  forgotten  to  put  this  and  now  that  into  it,  which  he 
must  by  all  means  take  with  him,  and  thus  some  of  the  already 
packed  up  things  had  to  be  displaced.  From  his  fiddle  and 
his  Bible  he,  however,  could  not  part. 

All  that  Peter  Vieck  had  done  for  him  demanded  more  and 
more  his  gratitude ;  tears  rcl'ed  down  his  cheeks :  he  took 
pen  and  paper  to  write  his  fareweL  to  him,  and  besought  from 
him  forgiveness ;  but  scarcely  was  the  lettei  finished  than  he 
again  tore  it.  Suddenly  a  new  thought  awoke  in  his  soul ; 
his  eyes  sparkled  :  his  hands  folded  themselves  —  a  final  de- 
termination was  taken.  He  rapidly  wrote  a  long  letter,  read 
it  through,  and  exclaimed,  rejoicing,  "  Yes,  thus  it  is  well ! 
now  I  am  tranquil,  and  Naomi  also  will  be  satisfied  with  it 
The  dear  God  has  given  me  the  ideas !  "  Joyfully  he  laid 
himself  in  bed,  and  slept  without  dreaming. 

In  the  early  morning  he  went  with  a  return  carriage  to 
Nyborg. 

Naomi  had  received  his  letter,  and  was  quite  captivated 
with  the  excellent  adventure,  whose  originator  in  truth  she 
was;  and  on  that  account  she  resolved  to  meet  him  at  the 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  !  l8l 

little  inn,  but  that  without  the  knowledge  of  ar.y  one.  She 
could  very  easily  get  there  —  she  needed  nothing  more  than 
to  take  a  ride  ;  but  it  would,  nevertheless,  have  been  unpleas- 
ant to  her  to  have  been  recognized  at  the  inn,  seeing  that  it 
was  only  a  simple  youth  whom  she  had  to  meet  there. 

She  therefore  made  a  visit  to  the  gardener,  a  dapper  little 
man,  who  dressed  remarkably  well  for  one  in  his  condition. 

u  I  have  a  little  jest  in  hand,  "  said  Naomi  to  him  ;  "  lend 
me  your  Sunday  clothes  for  it." 

She  herself  stole  to  the  stable,  saddled  her  horse  with  her 
own  hands,  and  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterward  she  rode,  in 
the  form  of  the  gardener,  down  the  poplar  avenue,  —  a  light 
and  bold  rider,  forsooth  !  She  waved  her  hat,  as  the  shepherd 
interrupted  his  work  of  sewing  on  soles  to  his  stockings  to 
open  her  the  gate. 

"  Take  care  of  my  horse,  and  let  the  guests'  parlor  be  heated 
for  me,"  said  Naomi,  as  she  entered  the  little  inn. 

Ah,  how  often  she  looked  up  the  road  to  see  whether  he 
were  not  coming  at  last !  How  carefully  she  studied  all  the 
names  which  were  written  on  the  window  !  For  three  whole 
hours  that  was  her  amusement. 

"  One  shall  see  that,  after  all,  he  will  not  come  ;  he  has  not 
courage  for  it !  "  said  she,  vexed. 

And  yet  the  hero  came,  but  late,  very  late  !  And  hot  and 
weary  was  he  with  the  long  journey. 

"  You  are  come  at  last !  "  exclaimed  she. 

He  started  as  he  recognized  the  disguised  maiden  ;  and 
soon  they  began  their  mutual  communications.  He  told  her 
of  that  which  had  so  actively  occupied  him,  and  gave  her  the 
letter  to  read  which  he  had  written  to  Peter  Vieck.  The  con- 
tents were  not  a  farewell,  but  a  candid  confession  of  his  in- 
tentions, yet  without  any  mention  of  Naomi's  name.  He  ex- 
pressed in  the  letter  his  romantic  view  of  the  world,  and 
added  his  conviction  that  he  must  seek  his  own  fortune,  and 
that  he  certainly  should  become  a  great  performer.  He  be- 
sought Peter  Vieck  to  give  him  his  consent  to  this  journey, 
without  which  he  could  never  be  easy.  He  wished  Naomi 
cvrst  to  read  his  letter ;  he  meant  then  to  send  it  and  wait  at 
tLe  house  of  his  parents  for  the  answer. 


1 82  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

u  Is  that  your  real,  earnest  intention  ? "  asked  Naomi. 
M  Now,  that  is  just  what  I  expected !  You  will  never  become 
a  great  man ! " 

She  would  not  say  another  word  to  him ;  —  called  for  her 
bill,  and  galloped  away  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening. 

Christian  stood  there  forlorn  ;  she  had  left  him  without  an 
adieu ;  he  was  still  in  possession  of  her  money,  but  it  seemed 
to  burn  in  his  pocket. 

The  god  of  dreams  weaves  into  the  veil  of  night  the  most 
strange  arabesques  which  the  fancy  can  create ;  it  is  an  attrib- 
ute of  the  power  of  Michael  Angelo  to  represent  the  lost  soul 
in  the  day  of  the  last  judgment,  and  the  tender  beauty  of  Ra- 
phael in  the  representation  of  the  heavenly.  There  is  given 
to  the  youthful  heart  the  same  boldness  in  painting  the  ex- 
tremes of  despair  and  of  hope,  and  the  transitions  are  equally 
abrupt 

And  if,  indeed,  in  moments  of  the  deepest  pain,  it  paint  a 
burial  vault  —  a  dark,  damp  vault,  in  which  nothing  but  sul- 
phureous fumes  spring  up  —  yes,  to  make  its  sufferings  more 
perceptible  to  us,  points  to  a  rose-bud  lying  on  the  ground, 
the  sacrifice  of  corruption,  we  shall  yet  see  that  it,  by  degrees, 
will  strike  out  roots,  unfold  itself,  put  forth  leaves  and  buds, 
and  that  the  whole  vault  will  be  changed  to  an  arbor  of 
roses,  in  which  the  sun  of  spring  will  soon  shine,  and  the 
blue  air  of  heaven  enter. 

Thus  also,  in  this  night,  was  the  transition  in  Christian's 
soul,  whilst  he,  at  random,  threaded  the  labyrinthine  byways 
which  led  in  the  direction  of  Orebak. 

Green  is  the  color  of  hope.  This  image  is  taken  from  the 
spring,  which  clothes  the  again-awakening  life  in  field  and 
meadow  in  this  color ;  but  is  not  the  regeneration  of  the  morn- 
ing from  night  much  more  allegorical  ?  Here  the  coloring  of 
anticipation  is  red  ;  the  rosy  stripes  in  the  east  announce  the 
regeneration  of  life  and  of  light  —  if  this  be  not,  like  human 
hope,  only  a  false  glory,  the  reflection  of  a  burning  village. 

Christian  saw  the  clear  brilliancy  in  the  east  —  the  morning 
uras  at  hand ;  but  still,  however  bright  the  horizon  might  be, 
jret  the  sun  did  not  ascend. 

It  was  a  conflagration.     There  was  a  fire  in  Orebak  —  the 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  !  183 

dwelling  of  his  stepfather  was  in  flames ;  and  yet  all  in  the 
house  slept,  and  therefore  the  red  flames  stretched  forth  their 
polypus  arms  boldly  through  roof  and  beams.  The  air  and 
the  snow  became  reddened  by  them,  the  tied-up  horses  neighed, 
and  the  sluggish  cows  and  oxen  bellowed  in  the  still  morning 
hour :  the  human  beings  slept,  and  those  who  sleep  are  indeed 
happy. 

Christian  knew  not  whose  house  it  was  which  was  burning, 
and  contemplated  the  distant  fire  with  that  interest  with  which 
the  young  look  on  when  other  people's  houses  are  burning ; 
but  afterward !  —  Yes,  in  the  morning  the  fire  was  extin- 
guished ;  the  last  harvests  were  burnt ;  the  cattle  were  burnt ; 
and  the  possessor  ?  With  his  head  shattered,  he  lay  beneath 
the  ruins  of  a  fallen  wall.  Two  tottering  chimneys  rose  out 
of  the  smoking  pile  of  rubbish,  and  peasants  and  fire-eugine 
people  bustled  noisily  about  the  place  of  the  burning. 

Hither  came  Christian,  with  his  bundle  under  his  arm  and 
his  packed-up  violin  on  his  back.  It  was  his  home  before 
which  he  stood. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"  By  studying  you  can  become  a  priest :  well,  does  not  a  cracked  bell 
call  a  pious  congregation  to  devotion  ? "  —  Queen  of  Spades. 

"  It  is  said  that  he  died  in  the  firm  and  confident  belief  that  his  people 
was  the  most  excellent  in  the  world,  and  in  spite  of  its  degeneration  and 
all  its  distress,  yet  the  only  chosen  peculiar  people  of  God. 

The  Old  Rabin  by  INGEMANN. 

WHEN  a  family  is  about  to  hire  a  servant,  they  do  not 
merely  consider  his  essential  usefulness,  but  they  take 
into  consideration  whether  he  have  absurd  manners  or  a  bad 
mode  of  speaking.  The  actor  who  makes  his  appearance  in 
public  must  be  possessed  of  an  exterior  which  is  suited  to  the 
character  which  he  wishes  to  represent,  in  order  to  deliver  in 
a  worthy  manner  the  work  of  the  poet,  and  in  an  especial 
manner  regard  is  had  to  his  voice.  To  the  preacher  alone,  to 
the  organ  of  divinity  itself,  do  we  permit  most  wretched 
elocution,  and  the  most  laughable  behavior.  We  have  sing- 
ing, through-the-nose  speaking,  affected  preachers,  who  for  the 
nost  part  have  brought  their  faults  with  them  from  the  capital, 
#here  they  have  endeavored  to  form  themselves  according  to 
this  or  that  celebrated  pulpit-orator  of  the  time.  Thus,  in 
former  times,  people  believed  that  the  Bible  could  not  be 
translated  into  the  language  of  the  country ;  and  many  country 
people  also  now  fancy  that  the  Bible  must  only  be  read  aloud 
in  the  affected  tone  in  which  they  have  heard  their  pastor 
deliver  the  dear  word  of  God.  Instead  of  reading  in  a  natural 
voice  and  from  a  full  chest,  and  looking  at  the  community  at 
large  in  the  face,  as  if  one  man,  the  preacher  often  stands 
there  like  a  Calcutta  cock,  and  turns  his  head  on  one  side  and 
his  eyes  on  the  other.  The  word  of  God  ought  to  be  like  the 
holy  wine  of  the  altar,  offered  in  a  pure  and  open  chalice. 
Every  one  of  those  qualities  which  a  preacher  ought  not  to 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  185 

possess  were  to  be  found  in  the  preachei  of  the  parish,  Mr. 
Patermann ;  who,  according  to  the  wishes  of  the  old  Countess, 
was  to  perform  Naomi's  Confirmation.  Not  in  vain  was  honey 
mingled  with  the  hissing  of  the  serpent  in  his  conversation  ! 
There  was  a  something  nauseously  sweet,  something  insinuat- 
ing, upon  his  ever-smiling  lips ;  he  turned,  like  the  elfin  king, 
his  fair  side  toward  people,  but  like  him,  at  the  same  time, 
was  a  hollow  figure.1  The  gouvernante  discovered  that  he 
had  a  truly  apostolic  countenance,  and  called  his  conversation 
poetry  in  the  prose  of  life.  We  cannot  participate  in  this 
opinion.  In  the  very  worst  taste  he  introduced  into  his  dis- 
course the  malicious  jokes  of  others  against  himself.  He  did 
not  understand  how  to  multiply  the  thoughts  of  others  and  to 
give  again  the  product ;  but,  in  fact,  he  subtracted  his  minus 
from  the  given  plus.  Such  a  man  as  this  could  not  please 
Naomi. 

"  Mr.  Patermann  is  to  make  a  human  being  of  me  !  "  said 
she,  whilst  all  his  prominent  peculiarities  passed  before  her. 
He  was  to  her  an  object  of  ridicule ;  and  that  he,  at  least, 
should  not  be  who  treats  of  holy  things.  She  had  no  esteem 
for  him,  and  this  excited  opposition.  The  preparations  for 
Confirmation  became  in  this  way  disputations,  yet  all  in  be- 
coming humility  toward  the  young  lady  of  condition.  The 
sinful  youth  of  the  country  had,  on  the  contrary,  to  bear  all 
the  more  for  it.  It  was  with  him  as  with  the  schoolmaster 
who  taught  the  son  of  a  rich  man  together  with  his  own  ; 
whenever  the  former  thwarted  and  vexed  him,  he  poured  out 
his  wrath  upon  the  latter,  assured  that  he  had  the  right  of 
acting  according  to  his  pleasure  with  his  own  flesh  and  blood. 

Naomi  was  accustomed  to  ride  to  the  parsonage,  and  the 
reverend  teacher  helped  the  gracious  young  lady  always  from 
her  horse.  On  the  day  of  which  we  would  now  write,  the 
herdsman's  boy  sprang  forward  to  hold  her  horse.  He  was 
sent  by  the  cottager's  wife  to  entreat  the  young  lady  to  go  to 
ner  for  a  moment,  because  a  stranger  lay  dying  in  her  house 
who  had  prayed  for  permission  to  do  so. 

"  What  trash  is  that !  "  said  the  pastor  ;  "  the  woman  is  a 

1  According  to  the  Danish  popular  belief  the  elves  are  hollow  behin  1 
tike  a  baking-trough.  —  Authors  Note. 


1 86  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

widow,  and  that  is  nothing  but  begging,  lies,  and  pretenses  : ' 
whereupon  he  conducted  Naomi  into  the  parlor.  It  happened 
so,  that  on  this  day  they  read  about  the  merciful  Samaritan. 

"  That  was  beautiful  conduct,  which  we  must  imitate,"  said 
the  pastor. 

"  Then  I  ought,  in  this  way,  to  have  gone  immediately  to- 
day to  the  cottager's  wife,"  interrupted  Naomi. 

"That  is  not  the  application  one  must  make," \  said  Mr. 
Patermann.  "  Here,  in  the  country,  poverty  consists  of  pure 
ragamuffins  —  it  is  made  up  of  tricks  and  devices;  people 
cannot  act  with  us  as  in  the  eastern  history."  With  these 
words  he  smiled,  because  he  meant  to  say  something  very 
beautiful. 

In  the  dwelling  of  the  poor  cottager  lay,  where  her  only 
cow  stood  tied,  a  dying  man  on  the  straw;  his  limbs  were 
covered  with  an  old  sack.  No  one  was  with  him,  the  cow  was 
his  only  companion :  the  skeleton-like  fingers  played  power- 
lessly  one  with  another. 

The  door  opened  and  the  woman  entered,  with  a  jug  in  her 
hand.  "  Lord  Jesus  ! "  said  she,  half  angry  and  half  bewail- 
ing, "  now  there  he  lies,  and  will  die  with  me,  a  poor  miserable 
being  !  That  is  what  I  have  got  by  letting  him  come  in  and 
lie  here  for  the  night !  Death  was  already  on  his  lips  when 
he  came  here  !  May  God,  however,  help  me  !  " 

The  dying  man  raised  himself  a  little,  seemed  to  smile,  and 
then  closed  his  eyes  again. 

"  The  young  lady  won't  come,"  said  the  woman :  "  it  is 
what  I  expected  ;  and  the  pastor  is  angry  about  my  sending 
the  lad  there,  and  I  shall  hear  about  it,  of  a  certainty." 

The  dying  man  sighed,  and  then  suddenly  he  raised  him- 
self up  and  pointed  to  a  sort  of  traveller's  box,  which  was 
fastened  with  a  cord. 

"  Shall  I  open  it  ?  "  asked  the  woman. 

"Yes  1 "  replied  the  sick  man,  scarce  perceptibly,  when  all 
at  once  his  eye  brightened,  for  Naomi  stood  before  him  ;  she 
had  entered  through  the  open  door. 

"  I  have  seen  you  before  now,"  said  she  to  the  woman  • 
"  you  have  always  saluted  me  so  respectfully  when  you  me* 
me.  Is  that  water  which  you  are  giving  to  him  ?  "  asked  she. 
"  Go  and  get  something  better ! " 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  l8/ 

"A  little  glass  of  brandy  might  do  him  good,"  said  the 
uroman  ;  "  but  for  fourteen  days  not  a  drop  has  been  in  my 
house." 

"  Go  and  buy  wine  !  "  said  Naomi,  giving  her  money.  The 
woman  looked  bewildered  and  inquiring,  and  hesitated  a  few 
moments  before  she  went  out. 

A  sparrow  flew  upon  the  stor.e  floor,  twittered,  and  then 
flew  out  again.  The  cold  wind  blew  through  the  crevices  in 
the  miserable  wall.  The  dying  man  seemed  again  to  revive, 
and  a  few  intelligible  words  proceeded  from  his  lips. 

"  Might  I  look  at  thee,  Naomi  ?  "  said  he. 

"  You  know  my  name  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  knew  it  before  thou  thyself  knewest  it, "  replied  the  sick 
man,  gazing  at  her  with  a  sorrowful  expression.  "  I  have  car- 
ried thee  in  my  arms ;  but  thou  canst  no  longer  remember  old 
Joel ! " 

"  I  saw  you  a  long  time  ago,  but  you  have  never  come  to 
the  hall." 

"  I  dared  not ;  nor  would  I,  either,"  replied  he. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ?  "  inquired  she. 

He  again  pointed  to  the  old  box.  What  did  it  contain,  and 
what  had  the  dying  Joel  to  say  to  her  ?  If  thou  couldst  have 
understood  the  twittering  of  the  despised  sparrow,  thou  wouldst 
have  heard  that  which  Naomi  heard  ;  if  thou  hadst  understood 
the  music  which  the  cold  wind  of  the  early  Year  blew  upon  his 
pandean-pipe  through  the  wicker-wall  of  the  miserable  cottage, 
thou  wouldst  know  why  Naomi  was  so  thoughtful,  why  she 
went  with  slow  steps  through  the  wood  toward  the  hall. 

"  Is  not  Judaism,  the  father  of  Christianity,  a  wandering 
Odip,  which  is  set  up  as  a  jest  for  the  younger  generation  ? " 
Could  it,  perhaps,  be  this  question  over  which  she  was  pon- 
dering ?  or  it  might  be  the  holy  remarks  of  Mr.  Patermann 
upon  the  compassionate  Samaritan  which  actively  employed 
her  mind.  Her  delicate  fingers  turned  over  the  leaves  of  a 
book,  and  her  eyes  looked  as  fixedly  upon  the  pages  as  the 
gold-maker  when  he  watches  the  mingling  of  the  mysterious 
powder  in  his  crucible.  Was  it  Luther's  "  Catechism,"  or  a 
new  and  improved  edition  of  the  hymn-book,  in  which  prosaic 
hands  have  stripped  it  of  its  poetry,  that  she  looked  thro1  igh 


1 88  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

BO  earnestly  ?  The  size  was  too  large,  the  volume  too  old,  and 
the  pages  bore  only  faded  handwriting.  It  was  the  inherit- 
ance of  the  high-conditioned  young  lady  on  the  mother's  side. 
There  were  verses  and  thoughts  in  this  book,  and  between  the 
leaves  lay  loose  papers. 

"  Is  there  any  shame  in  belonging  to  a  world-famous  peo- 
ple ?  "  inquired  her  thoughts.  "  The  father  of  my  mother  was 
rich  ;  Joel  was  his  servant  —  his  old,  faithful  servant.  When 
I  was  left,  and  everything  lay  in  ruins  and  in  ashes,  he  gave 
me  a  home  where  it  ought  to  be.  The  true,  old  soul !  " 

Tears  started  to  her  dark  eyes,  but  she  kept  them  back  with 
her  black  eyelashes. 

"  Young  lady  !  "  cried  the  poor  woman  behind  her,  "  now 
he  is  dead  !  " 

Naomi  stopped  her  horse. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  "  repeated  she.  "  Tell  me,  however,  what  he 
confided  to  you,  when  you  sent  the  boy  after  me  ?  " 

"  He  only  prayed  me  to  send  for  you,  otherwise  he  could 
not  die  ;  and  I  knew  that  to-day  you  would  be  with  the 
preacher." 

"You  could  not  have  rightly  understood  him,"  replied 
Naomi  coldly ;  "  and  therefore  you  acted  so  awkwardly.  You 
sent  a  messenger  to  me,  and  yet  I  never  had  spoken  with  the 
man.  I  know  him  not.  You'll  get  into  all  kinds  of  unpleas- 
antness if  they  come  to  hear  of  this  at  the  hall.  But,  however, 
I  will  be  silent  about  it,  that  I  promise  you.  Only  keep  silent 
yourself,  and  tell  the  bailiff  that  the  man  who  came  to  you  is 
dead." 

"  Dear  Lord  !  and  so  you  did  not  know  him  at  all  ? "  said 
the  woman. 

"  I ! "  replied  Naomi,  whilst  she  cast  an  ice-cold  glance 
upon  the  woman  ;  "  how  should  I,  indeed,  know  anything 
about  the  old  Jew  ? " 

And  she  rode  away,  but  her  heart  beat  violently. 

"  Poor  Joel ! "  said  she  to  herself ;  "  God,  indeed,  has  denied 
thy  people,  so  also  can  I  deny  thee ! "  She  drew  forth  the 
book  which  she  had  concealed  under  her  dress,  and  read  in  it. 
She  then  put  her  horse  to  the  gallop  and  careered  away. 

The  poorest   peasant  finds   his  grave   in   the  consecrated 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  189 

sarth  of  the  church-yard,  and  if  his  poor  relations  are  not  able 
to  place  above  him  a  grave  stone,  yet  they  stretch  out  between 
two  willow-poles  a  piece  of  linen,  and  write  upon  it  with  ink 
the  name,  birthday,  and  day  of  death  of  the  deceased.  The 
honest  Joel,  who  had  carried  to  the  grave  the  box  containing 
the  burnt  remains  of  his  master,  that  they  might  be  laid  in 
consecrated  ground,  received  for  himself  only  a  resting-place 
outside  the  church-yard  wall,  where  the  cow  of  the  cottager's 
wife  grazed  on  the  foot-path  !  Four  days  after  the  interment 
one  might  have  seen  the  white  sand,  with  which  the  poor 
woman  had  strewn  the  grave,  hurled  with  stones  by  the  chil- 
dren in  whom  the  Evil  One  had  a  place,  because  they  knew, 
indeed,  that  it  was  a  Jew  who  had  been  buried  there.  And 
the  despised  sparrows  sat  themselves  on  the  stones  and  twit- 
tered their  song,  and  the  cold  wind  of  the  early  Year  blew  the 
while  upon  his  pandean-pipe  through  the  miserable  wicker- 
work  of  the  next  fence. 

There  is  something  magnetic  in  reading ;  we  look  at  the 
black  letters,  and  there  ascends  through  the  eye  a  living  image 
into  our  souls,  that  seizes  upon  us  like  a  powerful  reality. 
Naomi  read  in  the  book  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  her  — 
she  read  the  letters,  and  the  house  that  was  burned  down 
stood  again  before  her,  with  its  old-fashioned  presses  and  the 
inscription  over  the  door,  —  "If  I  forget  thee,  Jerusalem,  let 
ay  right  hand  forget  its  cunning."  The  beautiful  stocks  sent 
brth  again  their  fragrance,  and  the  sun  shone  again  through 
the  red  glass  of  the  garden-house,  where  the  ostrich-egg  hung 
under  the  roof. 

The  old  Countess  had,  however,  been  correct  in  her  report 
regarding  Naomi's  mother.  The  Norwegian  had  overheard 
the  lovers  as  they  concerted  their  place  and  time  of  meeting. 
He  took  advantage  of  this  —  he  was  a  demon  who  had  no 
pity.  Of  a  truth  the  joy  of  love  was  great,  but  greater  still 
were  the  sufferings  of  love.  The  beautiful  Sara  wept,  as  had 
wept  Susanna  the  daughter  of  Chelcias,  but  there  was  no  Daniel 
to  witness  for  her,  —  "I  am  clear  of  this  blood  ! "  There 
were  many  commentaries  rich  in  meaning  on  this  subject  in 
Jhe  Book,  but  they  were  not  right  reading  for  one  preparing 
for  Confirmation. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

"  The  Norwegian  is  Naomi's  father !  "  was  written  with  a 
trembling  hand  in  the  book.  The  old  Joel  had  written  these 
words ;  and  more  than  this,  which  told  of  crime,  of  misery, 
and  of  violent  death. 

"  The  Norwegian  was  my  father/'  said  Naomi,  "  that  is  now 
certain !  O  my  mother  !  through  thee  I  belong  to  this  out- 
cast people  !  No  one  can  rob  me  of  this  persuasion  !  "  She 
stepped  before  the  mirror.  "  I  have  not  the  fair  hair  and  the 
blue  eyes  of  the  inhabitant  of  the  North  ;  in  me  there  is  noth- 
ing which  betrays  a  descent  from  the  land  of  the  northern 
lights  and  the  mist.  My  hair  is  black,  like  that  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Asia  ;  my  eyes  and  my  blood  tell  me  that  I  belong  to 
a  warmer  sun." 

And  she  read  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  eagerly,  as 
one  proud  of  his  ancestry  reads  his  genealogical  table.  Her 
heart  beat  loudly  at  the  names  of  the  valiant  women  of  whom 
these  writings  make  mention  —  of  the  courageous  Judith,  the 
wise  Esther. 

"  My  mother's  people  were  already  an  enlightened,  a  victo- 
rious people,  whilst  the  North  was  yet  inhabited  by  savage 
hordes.  The  wheel  has  turned  round  ! " 

"  The  noble  young  lady  is  an  Antichrist  in  belief,"  said 
Mr.  Patermann  after  the  hour's  instruction ;  and,  in  fact, 
her  questions  might  have  perplexed  a  more  able  divine  than 
he  was.  Left  to  herself,  her  mind  speculated  freely,  often 
boldly.  She  looked  beyond  that  which  surrounded  her,  and 
it  was  to  her  a  welcome  pleasure  whenever  she  could  embar- 
rass her  spiritual  teacher,  which  often  was  the  case.  She 
wished  to  know  what  it  was  which  Mahomet  had  taught  his 
people  ;  she  desired  to  hear  the  Brahminical  lore  as  it  was 
promulgated  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  "  One  must  know 
everything  in  order  to  choose  out  the  best,"  said  she.  "  To 
the  feeble  and  to  the  sick  one  may  only  give  the  appointed 
food,  but  I  am  strong  enough  to  taste  of  all  kinds." 

At  such  remarks  as  these  Mr.  Patermann  bowed,  and 
thought  to  himself,  "  If  anybody  comes  into  eternal  fire  sha 
will."  And  everything  which  was  displeasing  to  him  in  Na- 
>mi  he  mentioned  to  the  old  Countess,  and  she  sent  intelli- 
gence of  it  to  the  Count.  The  gouvernante,  who  was  by  no 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I  191 

means  fitted  for  the  guide  of  so  intellectual  \  girl  as  Naomi, 
had  likewise  gone  over  to  the  party  of  the  Countess,  and 
that  indeed,  in  the  threefold  character  of  reader,  nurse,  and 
helper-on  of  conversation.  She  had  been  long  attached  to 
Naomi,  but  when  this  young  lady  began  to  make  herself 
merry  over  the  German  poetry  of  the  gouvernante,  she  then 
went  over  to  the  opposite  party.  That  which  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  prophesied  to  Hagar  of  her  son  seemed  to  hang  over 
Naomi :  "  He  shall  be  a  wild  man  ;  his  hand  shall  be  against 
every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  shall  be  against  him." 
With  respect  to  the  Countess,  the  pastor,  and  the  gouvernante, 
they  were  all  three  severe  enough  against  Naomi.  "  I  know 
very  well,"  said  she,  "  that  dark  clouds  easily  arise  when 
the  meadow  steams.  But  the  storm  is  precisely  that  which 
interests  me,  —  a  self-arranged  storm.  They  wish  to  be  my  mas- 
ters !  the  Count  alone  is  my  royal  master!  If  they  go  on  too 
far  with  me,  if  they  play  the  wicked  part  of  Haman,  then  I 
will  be  as  bold  as  Esther,  and  when  they  least  expect  it  I  will 
present  myself  before  him  as  their  accuser.  It  was  a  more 
powerful  hand  than  that  of  the  fair  Ludwig  which  guided  the 
pen,  when  my  person  was  described  in  the  passport  which  was 
designed  for  the  womanish  boy  in  Odense  !  "  And  once  again 
she  read  about  Abraham's  rich  flocks  and  herds,  of  David's 
victories,  and  of  the  pomp  and  glory  of  Solomon. 

In  the  Forum  of  Rome  stands  the  ruins  of  a  pagan  temple  ; 
and  in  the  midst  of  these,  between  the  tall  marble  pillars,  a 
Christian  church  has  been  built.  The  past  and  the  present, 
the  old  and  the  new,  are  here  closely  bound  the  one  to  the 
other ;  but  the  eye  of  the  spectator  rests,  in  an  especial 
manner,  upon  the  remains  of  the  temple.  Thus  also  Naomi, 
fvith  her  thoughts  on  Judaism,  which  she  contemplated  as 
built  up  together  with  Christianity.  Accustomed  in  youth  to 
change  every  myth  into  reality,  there  was  in  her  a  sort  of 
Straussian  mysticism,  which  explained  everything  historical  by 
myths.  By  degrees  she  came  to  take  that  view  of  religious 
matters  which  is  beginning  to  reveal  itself  in  our  days  in  Ger- 
many, as  a  sort  of  freethinking.  As  to  her  religious  opinion 
in  the  year  of  Confirmation,  if  any  regard  must  be  paid  to  it, 
{.he  might  be  called  rather  a  Jewess  than  a  Christian.  The 


192 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


thundering,  sternly  avengeful  Jehovah,  appeared  to  ler  more 
glorious  than  the  gentle  Spirit  whom  we  address  as  an  Abba, 
dear  Father!  That  which  she  read  in  the  Old  Testament 
united  itself  with  recollections  from  her  childhood.  She 
thought  on  Joel  and  the  last  conversation  with  him. 

The  cow  of  the  cottager  was  grazing  upon  his  grave  the 
first  time  that  she  passed  by  it.  She  cast  a  glance  upon  the 
church-yard  wall  and  smiled. 

"  There  or  here,"  thought  she,  "  the  worms  still  devour  the 
body.  The  Bible  announces  resurrection  from  the  dead  and 
the  Bible  is  the  word  of  God,  they  tell  me.  But  yet  in  the 
same  book  it  is  written,  also,  '  As  the  cloud  is  consumed  and 
vanisheth  away,  so  he  that  goeth  down  to  the  grave  shall  come 
up  no  more.'  That  must  also  be  true,  because  it  too  stands 
written  in  the  Bible.  I  must  just  as  well  believe  the  one  as 
the  other  !  There  is  no  immortality  !  Jehovah's  most  perfect 
creature  must  crumble  to  dust  like  every  work  of  human 
hands,  must  cease  to  exist  sooner  than  nature  which  has 
formed  dust.  All  created  beings,  all  worlds  will  perish ;  and 
Jehovah  will  then  float  in  solitude  amid  the  ruins  of  His  works, 
amid  chaos,  as  He  did  in  the  beginning.  '  As  the  cloud  is 
consumed  and  vanisheth  away,  so  also  shall  no  one  return 
from  the  grave,'  says  the  Bible.  '  My  days  have  passed  more 
quickly  than  a  weaver's  shuttle,  and  are  vanished  away,  so 
that  there  is  none  remaining.'  Thus  live  quickly,  but  enjoy 
whilst  we  live  !  Breathe  in  joy,  and  in  a  moment  pass  away ! " 

On  the  following  Sunday  satin  rustled  along  the  swept  floor 
of  the  church,  in  which  hung  garlands  of  pine-boughs,  and 
red  lights  burned  upon  the  altar.  Naomi  stood  before  it ;  she 
was  the  first  as  well  as  the  best  of  those  confirmed.  No  one 
answered  better  than  she  did ;  no  one  proved  his  knowledge 
of  Christianity  more  excellently  than  she  did. 

The  coach  rolled  away  from  the  church  ;  the  wheels  passed 
over  Joel's  grave. 

"  To-day  I  have  enlisted  under  the  banner  of  Christ,"  said 
Naomi,  sunk  in  thought.  "  They  have  educated  me  to  it ; 
have  given  me  to  eat  and  to  drink  that  I  might  be  one  of  them. 
An  apostate  will  be  punished  ;  that  I  know.  Well,  in  the  end 
:c  must  be  all  one,  whether  one  be  of  the  cavalry  or  the  it> 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  193 

fantry,  if  one  serve  the  same  king."  She  fell  into  deep 
thought.  "  O  God  ! "  she  then  sighed,  "  I  am,  however,  so 
forlorn  in  this  world  !  "  And  tears  flowed  from  her  beautiful 
eyes. 

The  servant  summoned  to  the  festal  meal.  Mr.  Patermann 
conducted  the  old  Countess  to  table.  Naomi  was  dressed  in 
Btitin ;  a  red  rosebud  ornamented  the  swelling  bosom. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"  Pretty  pictures,  this  and  that : 
Half  to  weep  for,  half  to  laugh  at ; 
How  they  stand,  bow  they  turn  and  flee, 
Come  and  see  ! "  F.  RijCKERT 

AS  the  spinner  has  always  a  little  thread  upon  the  reel  in 
readiness,  that  thereto  she  may  unite  the  new  thread 
which  she  is  about  to  spin,  so  has  also  our  popular  language 
an  established  form  of  words,  in  its  epistolary  style,  with  which 
to  begin,  and  from  which  to  extend  its  correspondence,  —  "1 
am  well  and  in  health,  and  wish  to  hear  the  same  of  you,"  — 
although  that  which  follows  may  not  unfrequently  very  strik- 
ingly contradict  this.  With  this  opening  form  of  words  began 
honest  Peter  Vieck's  answer  to  Christian's  letter ;  the  remain- 
der ran  in  the  following  manner :  — 

"  How  long  is  it  since  thou  began  to  be  crazy  ?  Do  not  set 
all  sail  before  thou  hast  taken  full  lading  on  board !  Take 
care  that  thou  do  not  lose  what  little  thou  hast  in  the  upper 
room  !  For  the  rest  I  am,  till  death, 

"  Thy  true  Friend, 

"  PETER  VIECK, 
" Proprietor  and  Master  of  the  Ship  Lucie" 

The  hand  of  a  friend  strikes  deeper  wounds  than  the  hand 
of  an  enemy.  And  had  not  Peter  Vieck  properly  reasoned  in 
what  he  did  ?  Christian  could  not  deny  that ;  he  had  grieved 
him,  but  he  had  not  wounded  him  as  Naomi  had  done  when 
she  left  him  angrily,  because  he  would  not  blindly  follow  her 
venturesome  plans.  Then  his  self-esteem  was  wounded  ;  and 
it  had  vexed  him  a  hundred  times  since  then  that  he  could 
not  have  thrown  her  money  back  to  her.  Now  he  thought  of 
a  thousand  bold  answers  which  he  might  have  given.  On  the 
morning  of  the  following  day  he  had  found  his  home  in  ashes  { 


ONLY    i   FIDDLER!  195 

he  heard  the  lamentations  of  his  bereaved  mother,  and  to  her 
he  gave  half  of  the  money  :  he  hoped  again  to  obtain  this 
through  industry  or  by  some  unlooked-for  good  fortune.  It 
was  the  thought  of  the  moment.  Accept  good  advice  from 
thy  friend,  but  never  gifts  which  thou  canst  not  repay !  The 
truth  of  these  words  he  felt  deeply  ;  for  when  was  Naomi  not 
cold  and  hard-hearted  toward  him  ? 

"  I  love  her  no  longer  ! "  said  he ;  "  she  is  beautiful,  but 
that  is  all !  "  And  yet  his  thoughts  dwelt  incessantly  upon 
her ;  he  yet  dreamed  of  the  time  when  she  had  sat  upon  his 
bed ;  had  extended  to  him  her  hand,  and  he  had  pressed  a 
kiss  upon  her  cheek.  That  was  a  beautiful  dream  !  He  had 
given  to  his  unfortunate  mother  the  half  of  Naomi's  money ; 
this  was  a  heavy  load,  which  lay  upon  him  and  oppressed  him 
only  so  much  the  more  because  his  mother  was  not  made  hap- 
pier thereby. 

In  the  cottager's  wretched  room  she  sat  with  her  little  child. 
The  rich  relatives  of  her  husband  had  never  liked  her ;  now 
she  thought  that  the  bond  between  them  was  indeed  rent 
asunder.  They  wished  to  take  the  child  ;  but  that  the  mother 
would  not  permit,  and  spoke  hard  words  in  the  deep  feeling 
of  her  poverty.  Niels  sat  by  the  table  and  heard  her. 

"  And  you  may  now  take  back  your  tailor  to  you,"  said  he. 
"  With  the  hundred  dollars  he  has  yet  gone  overboard !  " 

"  He  got  a  deal  more,"  said  Marie ;  "  but  he  also  gave  away 
his  life  and  his  blood  for  it." 

"  Them  he  managed  to  keep,"  replied  Niels.  "  You  must 
not  fancy  that  he  is  dead  ;  I  saw  him  here  a  year  and  a  day 
ago.  He  came  here,  actually,  one  evening,  and  father  gave 
him  a  hundred  or  a  fifty-dollar  bill,  in  order  to  send  him  out 
of  the  country.  Now  you  can  be  the  tailor's  wife  again  ! " 

"  Lord  Jesus !  what  are  you  talking  about,  child  ?  "  asked 
Marie,  clasping  her  hands. 

"  I  say  that  you  must  not  take  it  amiss  of  my  connections 
because  they  will  not  support  you.  You  brought  nothing 
jideed  into  the  house  ;  thus  you  may  go  without  taking  any- 
thing again  out  of  it !  Your  first  husband  is  still  living ;  with 
him  you  may  be  contented  !  " 

"  Thou,  good  Lord,  be  gracious  to  me  !  "  sighed  Marie,  as 


ig6  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

she  listened  to  her  step-son's  relation.  "You  are  an  evil 
beast ! "  said  she  then  to  him ;  "  out  of  your  mouth  there 
comes  not  one  true  word ! "  And  she  burst  into  violent 
weeping. 

There  came  at  this  time,  into  Odense,  a  company  of  horse- 
riders,  who  were  on  their  way  to  Copenhagen.  People  said 
a  great  deal  about  the  handsome  men  and  the  magnificent 
horses  ;  and  Christian  and  other  dilettanti  assisted  in  the  rep- 
resentation. 

Naomi  and  the  Countess  were  in  Odense,  and  both  of  them 
were  pleased  with  what  they  had  seen.  "  One  lady  in  the 
company  shows  so  much  grace  in  her  demeanor,"  said  the 
Countess,  "  that,  without  being  embarrassed,  one  must  admire 
her  beautiful  limbs ;  she  stood  with  waving  feathers  in  hei 
hat  and  fluttering  banners  in  her  hand,  whilst  the  black  race- 
horse seemed  to  fly."  Naomi  envied  her  at  "this  moment. 
The  men  were  all  of  them  so  well  grown,  so  strong  of  muscle, 
and  of  such  a  powerful  exterior,  that  to  them  the  most  difficult 
art  seemed  only  to  be  play.  And  yet  it  was  asserted  that  the 
matadore  of  the  company,  Ladislaf,  a  Pole  of  one-and-twenty, 
had  not  yet  made  his  appearance.  His  boldness  bordered  on 
temerity,  it  was  said ;  he  was  just  recovered  from  a  severe 
illness,  and  on  this  account  had  not  been  able  to  appear.  On 
the  next  representation  he  led  a  horse  into  the  circus,  and 
the  attention  of  every  one  wa^s  turned  upon  the  man  whose 
exterior  was  the  true  beau  ideal  of  beauty,  and  whose  counte- 
nance of  a  truth  bore  the  traces  of  his  late  illness,  and  the 
stamp  also  of  a  bold  temper,  nay,  almost  of  arrogance.  He 
was  interesting  to  all,  although  no  one  as  yet  had  seen  any 
proof  of  his  equestrian  skill.  Rumor  busied  itself  with 
spreading  abroad  histories  regarding  him :  he  was  a  nobleman, 
it  was  said,  who  had  killed  his  beloved  accidentally ;  others 
stated  it  as  a  fact  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  fly  out  of  his 
country  on  account  of  a  duel ;  and  a  third  knew  pretty  cer- 
tainly that  he  had  left  his  home  for  love  of  a  beautiful  female 
rider,  but  that  she  was  lately  dead.  What,,  however,  might  be 
truth  or  exaggeration  in  this  report,  this  much  is  certain,  that 
the  pale  and  grave  young  man  was  a  very  interesting  object. 

"Yes,  he  has   been  very  i}l,"  said   the   Countess;   "and 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


'97 


what  nursing  can  the  poor  man,  indeed,  have  had  ?  I  feel  for 
him,  because  I  know  what  being  ill  is.  It  must  be  a  horrible 
life  to  be  careering  about  without  a  home,  from  one  country  to 
another,  and  perhaps  not  once  be  able  to  get  a  little  water 
gruel !  " 

"  A  happy  life  these  people  must  lead  !  "  said  Naomi.  "  1 
envy  the  lady  with  the  waving  feathers  in  her  hat,  and  the 
fluttering  banners." 

"  The  end  of  the  affair,  however,  will  be  that  she  will  break 
her  arm  or  leg,"  replied  the  Countess,  "  and  die  as  a  misera- 
ble cripple,  if  she  escape  without  a  broken  neck." 

Naomi  shook  her  head,  and  thought  a  deal  about  the  hand- 
some horse-rider.  Since  that  night  on  which  she  had  left  the 
little  inn  in  anger  she  had  not  spoken  to  Christian.  When  her 
eye  rested  upon  the  horse-rider  he  fixed  his  glance  upon  her. 
"  Amor  et  melle  et  felle  est  secundissimus  /"  says  Plautus  ;  and 
in  Christian's  heart  was  the  confirmation  of  this  to  be  read. 

Naomi  and  the  old  Countess  had  their  places  close  beside 
the  orchestra.  Mr.  Knepus  spoke  to  the  honorable  lady ; 
Christian  made  his  bow,  but  he  said  not  a  word  to  Naomi. 
When  the  performance  was  nearly  ended  she  leaned  over  the 
front  of  their  box  and  whispered  to  him,  — "  Go  with  the 
company  as  leader  of  the  band  :  you  have  now  the  best  op- 
portunity of  going  away  !  " 

"  What  should  I  get  by  it  ?  "  replied  he,  rather  coldly,  al- 
though his  heart  was  already  softened  ;  and  he  would  have 
gladly  kissed  her  hand  the  very  next  moment,  and  have  prayed 
her  forgiveness  for  every  hard  word. 

"  You  would  get  at  least  this  much  by  it,  that  you  would  go 
into  another  climate/'  said  she,  coldly,  and  then  spoke  no  more 
to  him. 

Yes,  climate  !  that  was  an  everlasting  theme  in  the  disputa- 
tious conversations  of  the  noble  house.  Let  poets  and  patri- 
ots say  whatever  they  would  about  the  magnificence  of  Den- 
mark, Naomi  declared. that  we  lived  in  a  bad  climate.  "If 
Heaven  could  only  have  foreseen  that  our  talent  for  admiration 
could  have  raised  itself  to  such  a  potency,"  said  she:  "  then  we 
certainly  should  have  been  created,  like  the  snail,  with  houses 
on  our  backs ;  and  then  it  would  not  have  been  needful  for  us 


io8  ONLY  A  FIDDLER t 

to  spend  so  much  lime  on  the  condition  of  our  cloaks  and 
our  umbrellas,  which  now  constitute  such  an  essential  part  of 
our  persons.  Our  year  consists,  just  as  in  the  tropical  coun 
tries,  of  a  dry  and  a  rainy  season  ;  only  with  this  difference, 
that  the  dry  season  with  us  is  in  the  winter  when  the  cold  has 
benumbed  everything,  and  the  rainy  in  the  summer,  which 
gives  to  us  fragrant  woods  of  which  we  are  so  justly  proud, 
and  beautiful  formations  of  clouds,  but  which  are  too  little 
studied,  because  not  many  of  us  can  ascend  so  high.  '  We 
may  yet  have  fine  summer  weather,'  say  we  in  September,  and 
when  none  comes,  then  we  console  ourselves  by  saying  that 
'  It  is  now  too  late  for  us  to  desire  steady  weather  !  It  is  good 
that  we  should  have  cold  weather  !  If  the  dear  God  will  only 
give  to  us  a  good  rain  !  otherwise  it  will  be  so  bad  for  the  far- 
mer.' That  is  our  perpetual  national  song,  which  we  repeat 
all  summer  long,  if  the  earth  be  not  always  as  soft  as  butter. 
A  man  who  has  deceived  his  neighbor  two  or  three  times  in  his 
life  we  call  a  villain  —  a  bad  man  :  but  a  summer  which  in- 
sidiously gnaws  into  our  health,  upon  which  we  cannot  calcu- 
late for  two  days,  nobody  dares  to  call  bad.  '  We  must  think 
about  the  advantage  to  the  farmer,  and  not  on  our  own  pleas- 
ure ! '  people  say  incessantly,  but  the  peasant  is  just  as  little 
contented.  Is  the  year  really  bad,  then  one  hears  him  with 
reason  complaining,  '  Thou  dear  God  !  this  year  we  have 
nothing ! '  Is  the  harvest  prosperous,  then  he  sighs  again, 
'  Thou  dear  God !  now  there  is  such  abundance  in  the 
country  that  we  shall  get  nothing  for  our  corn  ! '  He  com- 
plains and  complains,  and  shall  not  we,  who  have  a  taste  for 
natural  beauty  also,  not  complain  and  trouble  ourselves  ? 
Perishable  as  the  rainbow  are  the  beauties  of  nature  with  us, 
or  at  least  we  see  them  under  the  same  conditions  —  that  is 
to  say,  always  with  a  rain-cloud  above  our  heads  !  " 

These  were  Naomi's  views.  "  She  was  not  possessed  of 
love  for  her  native  land,"  said  the  Countess  ;  "  and  just  as 
little  of  a  feeling  for  Christianity/'  said  Mr.  Patermann.  If 
he  could  not  precisely  declare  her  to  be  an  anti-Christian,  yet 
he  regarded  her  as  a  female  John  the  Baptist,  which  was  the 
same  as  a  precursor  of  these  opinions.  In  regard  to  religion 
her  views  were  neither  ascetic  nor  Hellenic ;  she  was  m.ict 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  I  1 99 

more  of  a  preparatory  partisan  of  "  Young  Germany."  To 
this  opinion  it  might  be  objected  that  she  had  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  philosophy,  but  one  need  only  to  have  enjoyed  it  homce- 
opathically  in  order  to  be  just  as  deep  in  it  as  the  greater 
part  of  this  school,  and  then  to  be  possessed  only  of  eloquence 
and  a  due  acquaintance  with  the  so-called  eleventh  command- 
ment. 

Mr.  Patermann  growled  his  old  song  about  "bad  Chris- 
tians," and  the  old  countess  sang  her  "  Danmark,  deiligst 
Vang og  Vaenge"  and  meant  that  no  other  country  could  ex- 
cel hers.  She  had  not,  it  is  true,  seen  any  other. 

"  I  am  no  poet,"  said  Naomi,  "  who  endeavors  to  sing  of 
Danebrog,  neither  am  I  a  patriotic  orator,  who  aims  after  a 
place  in  the  Danish  '  Court  and  States  Kalendar.'  That 
which  is  beautiful  I  call  beautiful,  and  if  other  people  did  nof 
make  too  much  stir  about  it,  it  would,  perhaps,  also  inspire 
me." 

It  was  quite  true ;  for  she,  perhaps,  admired,  even  more 
than  others,  the  green  fragrant  wood,  the  boldly-shaped  clouds, 
the  blue  sea,  and  the  ancient  cairns  and  barrows  grown  over 
with  their  blossoming  brambles  :  but  she  knew,  at  the  same 
time,  that  there  was  greater  beauty  than  this  upon  God's 
earth,  and  that  our  climate  was  a  bad  one. 

"  You  should  really  set  off  to  a  country  where  the  climate 
is  better  !  "  was  therefore  always  the  refrain  to  Naomi's  litany 
about  the  bad  climate  of  Denmark. 

"  I  intend  to  do  so,"  was  the  answer. 

Thus  passed  the  summer  of  1819,  and  a  little  winter-journey 
to  Copenhagen  was  determined  upon.  Naomi  was  to  visit  in 
a  noble  house  connected  with  the  Count's  family,  in  which 
was  assembled  everything  which  the  capital  could  exhibit  of 
rich  and  magnificent.  Fine  spirits,  whose  talents  in  such 
houses  are  generally  regarded  as  a  sort  of  public  fountains, 
were  here  invited,  in  order  that  their  wit  and  spirit  might  bub- 
ble forth  before  the  other  guests.  Naomi,  beyond  any  one, 
could  enjoy  this  intellectual  exhibition,  and  she  felt  herself 
already  happy  in  the  mere  thought  of  such  a  transition  frora 
the  sick  chamber  to  the  drawing-room  of  the  capital  —  frora 
the  edifying  discourse  of  Mr.  Patermann  to  the  play  and  the 


2QC  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

opera.  She  was  now  old  enough  to  be  presented  in  the  world ; 
she  was  conscious  of  her  own  beauty  ;  she  comprehended  her 
own  powers  of  mind  :  but  one  thing  was  displeasing  to  her, 
and  that  was,  that  in  this  noble  house  she  had  only  these  two 
qualities  for  her  support,  for  she  was  wanting  in  genealogy. 

"  At  length  I  shall  here  begin  to  live  !  "  said  she,  exult- 
ingly ;  "  at  length  I  shall  escape  out  of  the  bastile  !  " 

Whether  we  may  wish  her  happiness  in  remaining  at  least 
yet  a  year  in  the  state  prison  —  that  time  will  show  us. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

"  Hep  !  hep  ! "  a  mocking  cry,  used  in  modern  times  at  tumultuous  scenes 
tgainst  the  Jews.  It  is  not  capable  of  proof  that  the  cry  was  already 
made  use  of  at  the  persecutions  of  the  Jews  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the 
explanation  of  it  by  Hierosolyma  est  perdita,  of  which  the  initial  letters  of 
the  strange  "  Hep  "  are  to  be  formed,  is  a  complete  failure.  Hep  is  prob- 
ably the  provincial  word  for  a  goat,  and  would  denote,  by  way  of  derision, 
the  bearded  Jews.  It  is  very  singular  that  this  cry  is  spread  even  over 
the  boundaries  of  our  country,  for  instance,  at  Copenhagen."  —  Universal 
Encyclopedia  of  Sciences  and  Arts. 

IT  was  on  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  September,  1819,  that 
Naomi's  carriage  rolled  through  the  gate  of  Copenhagen. 
What  life,  what  motion,  prevailed  in  the  streets  !  Doubly 
striking  was  this  for  those  who  came  from  the  provinces.  So 
animated  as  now,  Naomi  thought  it  never  had  been  on  any 
former  visit.  Everybody  appeared  to  be  excited,  like  the  blood 
of  a  delirious  subject.  In  the  side-streets  were  seen  groups 
of  people  assembled ;  horsemen  rode  past  as  if  they  were 
of  the  staff  who  were  sent  off  to  the  summer-palace  to  deliver 
dispatches.  All  indicated  something  out  of  the  common  way. 

Naomi  let  down  the  carriage  window,  and  looked  out 
curiously  upon  the  throng  of  people.  The  East  Street,  through 
which  their  road  went,  was  impassable  to  them,  from  the  mul- 
titude with  which  it  was  filled ;  wild  cries  resounded,  windows 
were  smashed,  and  a  few  shots  were  fired.  The  coachman 
was  compelled  to  torn  into  another  street.  Two  other  ladies 
from  Funen,  who  had  made  the  journey  with  Naomi,  could 
scarcely  breathe  for  terror. 

"  What  is  all  this  about  ? "  inquired  Naomi  from  the  carriage 
window,  as  they  drove  past  a  lamp,  the  light  of  which  fell  upon 
ter  whole  countenance.  A  rude  fellow  made  a  thrust  at 
her. 

"  That,  too,  is  one  of  the  race  of  Moses  ! "  said  he :  "  per- 
haps it  is  a  whole  Jew's  nest  that  is  taking  flight !  " 


2Q2  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

"  Hep  !  hep ! "  cried  all  at  once  a  wild  crew,  who  thionged 
around  the  carriage.  The  fellow  tore  open  the  door  and 
looked  in.  Naomi  burst  the  opposite  door  open  and  sprang 
out  of  the  carriage  in  the  first  moment's  confusion,  whilst  the 
coachman  urged  on  his  horses ;  and  several  hussars  sprang 
into  the  crowd,  in  the  midst  of  which  Naomi  stood.  She 
quickly  collected  herself,  and  letting  her  veil  fall  over  her  face, 
imagined  that  there  was  nothing  more  than  some  populai 
uproar. 

"  For  God's  sake  come  here !  "  whispered  a  voice  in  her 
ear.  A  man  seized  her  by  the  hand,  and  drew  her  from  amid 
the  tumult  into  the  nearest  house. 

"  It  is  deep  water  here,"  said  the  man  ;  "  now  we  steer  across 
the  court,  and  then  Mamsell  is  hidden  as  if  in  her  mother's 
bandbox ! " 

"  What  is  this  tumult  about  ? "  asked  Naomi. 

"  About  your  people,  whom  they  will  throw  overboard  ! ' 
replied  the  unknown  ;  and  then  mentioned  the  name  of  a 
Jewish  family  with  whom  he  did  business,  and  to  whom  he 
believed  that  Naomi  belonged.  He  was  now  about  to  lead 
her  home  across  the  court-yard. 

"  I  am  not  a  Jewess,"  said  Naomi. 

"  By  my  troth  the  flag  lies ! "  replied  the  man  :  "  I  actually 
saw  you  spring  out  of  the  carriage  !  My  name  is  Peter  Vieck  j 
my  ship  lies  in  the  new  dock.  You  may  safely  trust  me." 

Naomi  smiled.  "We  have  already  once  before  made  a 
journey  together  across  the  ice  from  Sweden,"  said  she. 

"  To  be  sure  !  At  that  time  the  ice  had  no  beams  ! "  cried 
Peter  Vieck,  delighted  ;  and  now  both  were  old  acquaintance. 

She  mentioned  the  street  in  which  she  was  expected,  and 
they  now  took  the  way  thither  through  one  of  the  lesser  side- 
streets. 

"  These  are  good  times  for  the  glaziers,"  said  Peter  Vieck ; 
"  but  they  are  breaking  other  windows  than  those  of  Jews.  It 
is  now  a  good  thing  to  sit  up  in  the  garrets,  and  therefore  I 
have  stowed  my  women-folk  up  aloft.  I  have  brought  two 
with  me,  that  they  may  look  about  here  a  bit,  for  I  am  lying 
here  now  only  a  few  days.  The  youth  is  also  here  with  me  ; 
yes,  he  is  now  shut  up,  and  he  handles  his  fiddle  a  little  bit 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  2O3 

Letter  than  he  did  formerly.  They  are  sitting  up  there  aloft !  " 
With  these  words  he  pointed  to  a  house  hard  by. 

"  Have  these  disturbances  begun  only  this  evening  ?  "  asked 
Naomi. 

"  Certainly  ! "  replied  Peter  Vieck  ;  "  but  they  will  not  so 
soon  be  allayed.  The  affair  began  in  Hamburg,  and  it  has 
come  here  like  a  running  fire.  It  is  now  said  that  there  lie 
two  ships  with  Jewish  families  on  the  Rhede,  who  wish  to  land 
nere.  It  is  all  a  lie,  but  the  people  believe  it  all  the  same." 

Whilst  they  thus  were  speaking,  a  throng  of  people  poured 
tumultuously  out  of  the  near  principal  street  into  the  lane  in 
which  the  two  were,  and  closed  the  way  against  them.  Several 
shots  were  fired.  Peter  Vieck  stood  for  a  moment  undecided. 
On  that  a  crowd  of  rude  boys  burst  upon  them,  and  just  be- 
side them  shivered  the  panes  of  a  window,  which  was  beaten 
in. 

"  I  fancy  that  we  are  gone  out  of  the  rain  into  the  gutter," 
said  he. 

"  We  must  see,  however,  if  we  cannot  get  through,"  replied 
Naomi. 

"  If  only  a  stone  do  not  knock  us  on  the  head  1 "  answered 
Peter  Vieck.  "  I  am  afraid  that  all  the  stones  do  not  come 
from  the  street  —  there  may  so  very  comfortably  come  down 
on  us  a  stone  from  a  neighbor's  floor.  Such  a  land-tempest 
as  this  is  worse  than  a  sea-tempest.  It  would,  according  to 
my  notion,  be  the  best  if  the  young  lady  would  put  up  with 
the  company  of  my  women-folk,  while  I  go  and  hire  a  coach." 

The  crowd  increased  both  before  them  and  behind,  for  the 
lesser  streets  were  like  the  ducts  which  received  the  super- 
abundant crowds  from  the  high  street. 

"  If  the  young  lady  will  take  hold  of  my  coat-laps,"  said 
Peter  Vieck,  "  I  will  then  serve  for  a  lantern ; "  and  they 
now  ascended  a  narrow  and  dark  flight  of  steps.  He  knocked  ; 
a  female  voice  asked  anxiously  who  was  there  ?  "  It  is  I,  thou 
little  goose  I  "  replied  the  seaman,  as  he  entered  with  Naomi 
the  little  apartment 

Lucie  stood  with  the  light  in  her  hand,  and  the  half-country 
and  half-town  attired  mother  sat  with  the  hostess  and  Chri» 
tian  at  the  frugal  supper-table. 


2O4  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER! 

"  Wipe  down  a  chair  for  the  lady ! "  said  Peter  Vieok  to 
Lucie :  I  am  going  further  to  fetch  a  carriage."  He  immedi- 
ately left  the  little  company,  in  which  the  mutual  astonishment 
was  about  equally  great.  All  three  in  the  mean  time  had 
risen  from  the  table,  without  a  single  word  having  been 
spoken. 

Naomi  begged  pardon  for  disturbing  them,  and  related  that 
which  had  happened  to  her.  The  others  became  now  some- 
what communicative. 

All  were  full  of  anxiety,  especially  Lucie,  who  was  here  now, 
for  the  first  time,  to  see  the  great  city.  The  widow  with  whom 
they  lodged  was  an  old  friend  of  her  mother ;  they  had  in 
their  younger  years  served  the  same  master.  Peter  Vieck 
had  brought  the  Funen  friend  with  him,  as  he  would  have  to 
remain  here  from  eight  to  fourteen  days,  and  of  this  time  al 
ready  the  half  was  passed. 

As  Paris  in  the  three  July  days,  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
north  appeared  Copenhagen,  in  its  present  state,  to  the  peace- 
ful inhabitants  of  the  country.  What  riches,  what  pomp,  had 
not  they  here  seen  !  —  there  was  material  enough  in  it  for  con- 
versation for  a  whole  year,  for  a  whole  life.  The  royal  stables 
with  the  marble  mangers  surpassed  actually,  in  grandeur, 
every  country  church  that  they  knew  !  The  Exchange,  with 
its  many  shops,  which  formed  two  entire  streets,  was  just  like 
a  little  town  with  a  roof.  They  had  seen  the  royal  family  sail- 
ing on  the  canal  in  the  Friedrichsberg  pleasure-garden,  with 
music  before  them ;  they  had  been  on  board  a  ship  of  the  line, 
where  all  was  so  great  and  so  bewildering  that  one  there  could 
aave  a  very  correct  idea  of  Noah's  ark,  in  which  every  kind 
of  creature  in  the  world  found  a  place. 

All  this  was  related  in  a  sort  of  narrative-duet  by  mother 
and  daughter ;  yet  the  mother  had  the  first  voice,  which  was 
only  interrupted  now  and  then  by  shrieks  from  the  street,  or 
by  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  when  a  troop  of  cavalry  galloped 
past.  Then  all  were  silent,  and  a  low  "  Lord  Jesus  ! "  came 
forth  with  a  sigh  from  the  troubled  breast.  Lucie  could  not 
satisfy  herself  with  looking  at  Naomi,  Christian  indeed  had 
spoken  so  much  to  her  about  her. 

Almost  a  whole  hour  was  passed,  and  yet  Peter  Vieck  had 


ONI  Y  A   FIDDLER!  2O5 

not  returned.  It  had  been  certainly  difficult  to  obtain  a 
carriage.  Everything  again  seemed  to  be  tranquil.  They 
waited  still  in  vain  for  the  coach ;  every  carriage  which  they 
heard  they  regarded  certainly  for  the  one  which  he  had  or- 
dered, but  all  of  them  drove  past.  In  vain  they  attempted  to 
begin  again  the  conversation  ;  it  would  not  succeed.  Full  of 
disquiet  they  looked  toward  the  door,  but  no  Peter  Vieck 
came.  It  began  to  be  unpleasant  to  Naomi  to  be  in  the  little 
loom  among  strangers. 

The  watchman  called  eleven  o'clock,  and  yet  they  sat  there 
all  alone. 

"  O  God  ! "  said  Lucie,  "  if  he  only  be  not  shot  dead ! 
How  easily  might  they  miss  their  aim  !  " 

"  They  only  shoot  with  loose  powder,"  interrupted  Naomi. 
"  For  my  part  I  am  not  at  all  afraid,  and  will  very  willingly 
go  home,  if  Christian  will  only  accompany  me." 

"No,  no!"  cried  the  women,  "that  will  not  do.  We  will 
wait  a  little  while  longer." 

The  hostess  brought  cards  for  pastime. 

"  But  what  if  Christian  were  to  go  down  and  see  after  the 
seaman  ? "  said  Naomi.  Christian  was  quite  ready  to  do  so, 
and  promised  soon  to  come  back  again. 

"  Only  for  God's  sake  take  care  of  thyself ! "  cried  Lucie 
after  him.  "  Ah,  I  am  so  anxious  about  him  !  " 

"  He  is  a  grown  man,"  replied  Naomi,  "  and  if  I  know  him 
rightly  he  will  not  go  far  from  the  house-door !  " 

But  in  that  Naomi  was  wrong. 

The  women  now  found  themselves  alone. 

"  Hark  !  "  cried  Lucie  suddenly,  "  the  watchman  whistles. 
O,  how  fearful  it  is  here  in  the  great  city,  where  one  lives  sc 
high  up  toward  heaven,  the  one  family  above  another !  Would 
to  Heaven  that  we  were  again  in  our  quiet  home  !  " 

"  But  there  one  gets  so  weary,"  said  Naomi. 

"  Ah  no  !  "  replied  Lucie  ;  "  in  summer  one  is  almost  always 
in  the  open  air,  and  in  winter  there  are  so  many  things  to 
employ  one.  I  really  long  for  the  view  upon  the  neighbor's 
roof  and  crooked  window,  which,  from  one  year's  end  to 
mother,  has  been  the  view  from  my  little  chamber.  Yes, 
certainly,  I  long  for  it  because  I  should  not  then  have  to 


2O6  OJVLY  A  FIDDLER! 

endure  the  anxiety  which  I  feel  here.  At  first  I  was  delighted 
indeed  at  the  sight  of  so  much  novelty  and  grandeur ;  but 
even  whilst  I  saw  all  that,  a  distrustful  feeling  oppressed  me 
of  being  among  so  many  strange  people.  Not  one  of  them 
all  knew  me  ;  I  am  to  all  of  them  perfectly  indifferent !  That 
is,  after  all,  a  strange  thought !  " 

In  the  mean  time  Christain  was  in  the  street.  Everything 
appeared  here  to  be  entirely  still ;  all  doors  and  gates  were,  by 
order  of  the  police,  kept  fastened  :  but  the  lighted  windows 
showed  plainly  enough  that  the  inhabitants  were  enjoying 
no  repose  in  their  beds.  Every  house  seemed  to  be  a  silent 
night-walker,  in  whose  interior  living  thoughts  were  in  move- 
ment. In  the  dancing  saloon  alone  it  was  dark  ;  no  beam  of 
light  streamed  through  the  cut-out  hearts  in  the  window- 
shutters.  Christian  thought  upon  poor  Steffen-Margaret :  the 
cold  earth  had  already  covered  her  coffin  for  a  long  time.  Ol 
Peter  Vieck  he  perceived  nothing.  At  the  livery-stables  all 
was  still  ;  and  when  he  knocked,  nobody  answered.  It  was 
thus  only  poor  comfort  which  he  had  to  take  back  to  those 
who  waited. 

Naomi  regarded  her  situation  on  the  romantic  side,  the 
only  one  which  afforded  her  anything  agreable.  Lucie,  on 
the  contrary,  was  ready  to  cry. 

"  If  uncle  do  not  come  before  twelve,"  said  she,  "  then 
may  God  have  mercy  on  him,  for  some  misfortune  must  have 
happened ! " 

"  God  is  good  and  merciful ! "  replied  the  mother,  whilst 
she  took  up  the  cards  to  consult  them. 

"  Ah,  mother,  lay  the  cards  away,  however !  It  seems  to 
me  like  a  tempting  of  God,  on  an  evening  like  this,  to  consult 
the  cards." 

It  wanted  but  a  quarter  to  twelve:  they  counted  every 
stroke  of  the  bell.  Like  the  crew  of  Columbus,  they  had 
fixed  upon  a  decided  time,  after  which  they  would  give  up  all 
hope.  Those  fixed  a  day  —  these  a  certain  hour :  it  was  that 
)f  midnight. 

Honest  Peter  Vieck  had  also,  in  the  mean  time,  counted  the 
quarters,  but  that  already  two  hours  earlier.  Now,  however, 
he  was  resigned.  He  found  him  in  a  numerous  company,  but 
to  which  Goethe's  words,  — 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  2OJ 

"Gute  gesellchaft  hab'  ich  gesehen  ;  man  nennt  sie  die  gute, 
Wenn  sie  zum  kleinsten  Gedicht  keine  gelegenheit  giebt, "  — 

did  not  apply.  No,  of  a  truth  !  good  one  could  not  call  the 
society  in  which  he  found  himself,  but  it  furnished  rich  ma- 
terial for  poesy,  especially  for  the  romantic ;  for  it  consisted 
of  a  sort  of  mixed  character,  of  a  little  quodlibet,  such  as  the 
watchful  police  are  always  able  to  collect  together  on  a  dis- 
turbed night.  All  were  assembled  in  a  great  hall,  which 
otherwise  served  the  purpose  of  an  audience-chamber ;  a 
small  window  over  the  door  allowed  the  light  of  a  lamp  to  fall 
in  upon  them.  All  those  who,  on  this  evening,  had  been 
apprehended  as  disturbers  of  the  public  peace,  sat  and  lay 
grouped  here  in  various  degrees  of  shade. 

"  Justice  must  have  her  course,"  said  Peter  Vieck  ;  "  it  was 
a  little  mistake  that  brought  me  here :  yet  what  will  it  matter  ? 
To-morrow  will  make  it  all  right." 

He  thought  on  his  women-folk,  as  he  called  them,  and  on 
Naomi,  who  was  waiting  for  the  carriage.  Yes,  she  would 
have  to  wait  a  long  time !  But  had  he  not  told  it  plainly 
enough  to  the  horse-soldiers,  when  they  would  force  him 
along  with  the  throng  ?  But  they  were  always  so  hand-over- 
head, and  would  hear  of  nothing  ;  neither  would  the  sergeant 
of  the  watch  either :  to  prison  one  must  go,  and  the  bar  be- 
fore the  door  immediately !  There  was  now  nothing  else  to 
be  done  but  to  sleep  through  the  night.  To-morrow  he  would 
soon  make  his  papers  clear. 

When  it  struck  twelve  he  was  sleeping  a  tranquil  sleep ; 
but  in  his  lodgings  they  were  convinced  that  some  misfortune 
had  befallen  him.  What  were  they  to  do  ?  Naomi  resigned 
herself  to  her  fate  ;  she  leaned  her  head  back  in  the  chair, 
and,  wearied  with  her  journey,  soon  slept.  As  soon  as  she 
was  gone  to  sleep  Lucie  gave  free  course  to  her  tears,  ur^til 
her  weary  head  bowed  itself  to  the  bosom  ;  but  she  did  not 
dream,  as  Naomi  did,  of  some  beautiful  days  in  Funen,  of  the 
giants'  graves,  and  of  flying  clouds ;  she  dreamed  of  the 
agitated  sea  upon  which  she  had  sailed,  and  of  the  agitated 
c'ty  in  which  she  now  was.  She  therefore  breathed  deeply, 
and  her  bosom  heaved  like  that  of  a  sick  person.  The  quiet, 
pious  maiden,  was,  in  sleep,  the  image  of  passion  ;  whilst  the 


2O8  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

wild  Naomi  seemed  to  be  a  gentle,  affectionate  being,  in 
whom  all  peace  and  tranquillity  breathed.  Christian  contem- 
plated them  both.  The  uneasy  dream  which  agitated  Lucie 
with  galvanic  power  recalled  to  him  the  recollection  of  that 
night  which  he  had  passed  at  the  well,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  she  were  thrown  back  by  sleep  into  that  former  state  of 
mind.  It  distressed  him  to  look  at  her. 

Involuntarily  he  placed  himself  by  Naomi,  and  contem- 
plated that  beautiful  being  until  his  blood  became  a  burning 
fire  ;  he  felt  an  impulse,  a  wild  desire,  to  press  his  mouth  to 
her  lips.  Thus  regarding  her,  he  drank  in  the  poison  of  love 
by  copious  draughts.  She  lay  immovably  there :  the  beautiful 
Medusa  head  turned  not  his  heart  to  stone,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, melted  it ;  whilst  Lucie  infused  into  him  fear  and 
horror. 

The  light  burned  down  ;  Christian  observed  it  not  until 
the  moment  in  which  the  flame  kindled  up  again,  only  to 
expire. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

*  He  spurs  quickly  his  steed  at  the  setting-sun  ;  his  cuils  arc  splen- 
didly fluttering  ;  his  look  is  manly  and  beautiful ;  there  is  something 
powerful  in  its  quick,  eager  flight."  —  H.  P.  HOLST. 

"  I  have  now  lived  through  a  whole  day,  —  a  day  which  thou  never  canst 
create  for  thyself.  I  had  a  dream  of  a  merry  existence,  short  and  pleasant 
as  a  spring-morning,  like  an  intoxication  of  champagne  !  But  then.  .  .  . 
—  A  Gentleman's  Perspective. 

*  I  ^HE  baronial  house  in  which  Naomi  lodged  was  wealthy; 
JL  all  the  members  of  it  were  regarded  as  patriots,  but 
they  found  that  Naomi  was  not  so  ;  and  yet  the  Armand  Car- 
rel of  every  country  would  have  declared  her  the  fittest  recruit 
under  the  age's  banner  of  freedom.  There  was  a  deal  of 
reading  here,  and  yet,  for  all  that,  their  acquaintance  with  the 
literature  of  their  native  country  was  confined  to  reading 
"  The  Intelligence  of  the  Address  Office,"  and  the  new  plays 
which  the  abonnement  evenings  of  the  family  presented  them 
with.  But,  notwithstanding,  one  often  heard  here  the  excla- 
mation of  enthusiasm,  "  Quite  superb  ! "  over  this  or  that 
English  novel,  although  these  not  unfrequently  were  inferior  to 
the  productions  of  their  own  land's  literature. 

They  forgot  how  everything  in  the  world  is  subjected  to  the 
laws  of  Nature,  accordingly  the  poet  also ;  his  fame  depends 
not  upon  his  works,  but  upon  the  greatness  of  his  country . 
this  and  his  own  greatness  are  multiplied,  one  by  the  other, 
and  the  country  always  stands  as  a  ten.  The  family  were 
very  religious,  that  is  to  say,  they  went  very  willingly  to 
church  to  hear  the  preacher,  in  whom  the  Count  took  pleasure. 
Naomi,  on  the  contrary,  was  quite  a  heretic.  Like  as  in  our 
days  the  artist  Adam  has  ventured  to  fly  in  the  face  of  the 
Parisian  clergy,  by  ornamenting  the  Panthe'on  with  the  saints 
of  Voltaire  and  other  intellectual  writers,  instead  of  Genoveva 
and  the  pious  characters  of  the  legends,  so  did  sht  place  in 
14 


2IO  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

the  temple  of  her  religion  Socrates  beside  Paul,  Mahomet 
beside  Zoroaster.  People  thought  Naomi  beautiful,  but 
still  more  odd.  That  everybody  was  acquainted  with  her  de- 
scent was  tolerably  certain,  and,  therefore,  something  was  de- 
ducted from  her  nominal  worth.  All,  in  the  mean  time,  was 
Courtesy  toward  her  —  that  fine,  ice-cold,  highly-polished  po- 
liteness that  renders  opposition  an  impossibility.  Had  Naomi 
been  descended  from  this  or  the  other  celebrated  family,  we 
may  very  certainly  believe  that  she  would  have  placed  great 
value  upon  belonging  to  a  family  which  had  at  one  time  dis- 
tinguished itself  beyond  others,  which  is  always  very  agreea- 
ble ;  and  we  scarcely  think  that  she  would  have  striven  to 
have  resembled  those  noble  persons  who,  as  we  learn  from 
history,  inspired  by  the  first  French  Revolution,  gave  up  their 
diploma  of  nobility  in  order  to  become  only  citizens.1  Now, 
however,  she  paid  homage  to  this  boldness  of  mind,  and  as- 
serted that  by  this  act  these  men  had  shown  their  nobility  of 
spirit.  Had  old  Joel  at  the  time  entered  the  drawing-room 
in  which  she  and  the  noble  young  ladies  sat,  she  would,  per- 
haps, have  had  a  pride  in  saying,  "  I  know  him  !  " 

A  Danish  author  has  made  us  aware  of  the  fact  of  there 
being  so  many  Kammerjunkers  in  Denmark,  that  if  a  Dane 
went  to  Hamburg,  and  the  people  in  the  hotel  were  not  ac- 
quainted with  his  title,  they  were  accustomed  to  call  him 
Kammerjunker,  and  that  this  generally  was  the  right  one. 
Into  the  baronial  family  was  admitted  nearly  the  whole  of  this 
class,  and  one  of  these  was,  in  consideration  of  Naomi,  treated 
with  peculiar  politeness  ;  and  this  gentleman  went  through 
every  attention  which  betokens  A,  yet  Naomi  would  not  say 
B  to  it.  He  was  from  Holstein,  and  therefore,  body  and  soul, 
a  German.  Yet  he  was  not  to  blame  on  this  account,  Naomi 
thought ;  it  is  the  language,  and  not  the  political  boundaries, 
rivers,  and  mountains,  which  separate  nations,  she  said.  In 
the  north,  Norway  and  Denmark  are  sisters,  Sweden  a  half- 
brother,  Germany  a  cousin,  and  England  a  distant  relation. 

The  Kammerjunker's  father  had  lately  celebrated  his  ar- 
rival at  old  age.  "  That  every  one  might  do,"  said  Naomi, 
"  who  had  done  nothing  but  make  the  dear  God  not  wish  foi 
them."  Yet  that  was  what  she  should  not  have  said. 

J  Swedish  history  has  also  examples  of  this  kind.  —  Author's  Noto. 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  211 

In  February  there  came  to  Copenhagen,  from  Sweden,  a 
German  horse-riding  company,  who,  in  May,  were  to  go  to 
Vienna.  The  Kammerjunker  took  a  box  in  the  circus,  and 
invited  thither  the  whole  baronial  family.  Miss  Emma  was  a 
passionate  lover  of  horses  ;  she  paid,  every  fourteen  days,  her 
two  rix-dollars  to  make  a  tour  with  the  royal  riders,  and  no- 
body was  more  delighted  by  the  arrival  of  the  troop  than  she 
was.  As  duenna  of  the  many  young  ladies  whom  the  Kam- 
merjunker conducted  to  his  box,  his  aunt,  the  Countess  Hohn 
made  her  appearance  ;  she,  according  to  the  bad  custom  of 
many  of  our  higher  families,  instead  of  the  title  appended  to 
her  name  the  syllable  en,  and  thus  was  accustomed  to  be 
called  Hohnen.1  Beneath  her  portrait  there  might  have  been 
written  the  witty  words  of  Le  Sage :  "  C'est  la  perle  des 
duegnes,  un  vrai  dragon,  pour  garder  la  pudicite'  du  sexe." 

The  Kammerjunker  expressed  his  wish  of  being  present  at 
one  of  the  performances  of  the  horse-riders,  for  as  to  that 
which  was  given  on  our  stage  he  had  seen  very  much  better 
acted  in  Hamburg,  that  extreme  northern  point  of  our  civilized 
Europe. 

How  extremely  rapidly  drove  the  coach  thither  through  the 
snow  covered  streets.  The  four  carriage  wheels  rolled  round 
many  hundred  times,  and  with  them  the  great  wheel  of  Fate. 
Would  to  Heaven  that  the  coach  had  been  overturned,  and 
the  ladies  had  been  terrified  a  little,  and  Naomi  had  broken 
an  arm !  Yet,  that  might  have  been  a  horrible  misfortune  ! 
But  when  did  one  ever  hear  of  a  misfortune  happening  when 
the  criminal  went  to  the  place  of  execution  ?  Never  do  the 
horses  then  run  away,  nor  does  the  axle-tree  break  ! 

The  circus  was  quite  full.  The  orchestra  played  one  of 
those  light,  buoyant  melodies,  which,  when  one  hears  them  for 
the  first  time,  operate  upon  us  like  the  sight  of  a  lady  when 
she  enters  the  ball-room  ;  all  is  freshness  in  her  life's  joy  and 
buoyancy.  But  afterwards  —  yes,  then  the  melody  again  re- 
sembles the  lady  after  she  has  danced  through  the  night ;  the 
freshness  is  gone ! 

Handsome  horses  were  led  forth.  During  the  first  exhibi- 
tion the  most  distinguished  performers  did  not  come  forward, 
1  That  is  the  same  as  "  the  Hen." 


212  ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  I 

:>ut  Naomi  had,  during  that,  seen  enough  to  recognize  them  as 
the  same  as  those  whom  she  had  seen  at  Odense :  she  turned 
to  the  bill  and  read  there  the  name  of  Ladislaf. 

The  lady  with  the  waving  plumes  stood  already  on  the 
horse,  and  the  banners  fluttered  again  in  her  hand.  It  seemed 
to  Naorni  as  if  she  had  only  closed  her  eyes  and  dreamed  a 
short  dream  since  she  had  seen  that  lady  the  last  time. 
There  were  the  same  movements,  the  same  smile,  the  same 
music  as  then.  And  yet  this  lady  since  then  had  been  in 
Stockholm  and  Petersburg,  and  this  summer  she  was  to 
wave  the  same  banners  to  the  same  music  before  the  good- 
tempered  people  of  Vienna !  O,  what  a  happy,  animated 
life  !  How  charming  it  must  be  always  to  be  riding  about  in 
foreign  countries,  always  to  be  seeing  something  new,  and 
never  more  coming  back  to  stay  !  Coming  back  ?  Ah,  that 
indeed  signifies,  in  our  language,  nothing  good  ! 

The  trumpets  pealed,  the  barriers  were  opened,  and  Ladis- 
laf sprang  into  the  circus  on  his  proud  black  horse.  He 
greeted  like  a  lord  his  vassals.  He  wore  a  Polish  dress. 
His  cap  was  edged  with  dark  bear's  fur,  but  his  black  hair 
came  more  strongly  from  beneath  it.  Every  trace  of  sickness 
was  vanished,  yet  there  was  no  rosy  hue  to  be  seen  in  his 
countenance :  a  dark  bronze  coloring  was  on  his  proud  fea- 
tures ;  seriousness  and  keen  thought  in  his  dark  glance. 

As  soon  as  he  showed  himself,  the  handsome,  powerful 
young  man  excited  the  interest  of  the  whole  mixed  public, 
which  was  easily  to  be  perceived  by  the  general  murmur 
of  admiration.  His  whole  attention,  however,  was  turned 
upon  the  horse ;  he  cast  not  a  glance  on  the  spectators.  Now 
he  flew  in  wild  speed  around  the  course,  played  with  sharp 
swords  in  the  air,  and  took  the  boldest  leaps.  It  seemed  to  be 
sport  to  him,  and  as  if  he  and  his  horse  had  practiced  their 
art<«  only  for  their  mutual  pleasure.  He  exhibited  a  boldness 
which  terrified,  whilst  his  suppleness  and  his  elasticity  gnve  to 
his  exhibitions  the  appearance  of  the  easiest  play.  People 
looked  at  him  with  the  same  tranquillity  with  which  we  see 
the  bird  floating  over  the  deep ;  we  know  that  the  power  of 
Ws  pinions  will  not  leave  him. 

More  than  one  lady  held  her  slender,  delicate  fingers  before 


OAL  V  A   FIDDL  ER!  2 1  3 

her  eyes  whilst  the  crowd  applauded  him.  Naomi  leaned  her- 
self over  the  front  of  the  box  ;  her  eyes  sparkled.  That  was 
the  first  man  to  whom  she  had  looked  up,  whom  she  had  ad- 
mired m  the  feeling  that  he  was  in  anything  superior  to  her. 

After  Ladislaf,  other  performers  presented  themselves  ;  yet 
none  were  so  handsome  as  he,  none  so  bold  and  courageous. 
He  closed  the  performance  by  the  representation  of  Mazeppa, 
bound  upon  the  back  of  the  horse,  his  head  depressed,  career- 
ing in  wild  flight  over  the  immense  deserts,  like  a  Hetman  of 
the  Cossacks. 

That  was,  however,  a  beautiful,  glorious  evening  !  Even 
the  Kammerjunker  was  interested,  for  he  spoke  only  of  Lad- 
islaf. Through  the  whole  night  Naomi  dreamed  of —  Christian. 
That  was  the  man,  however,  of  whom  one  might  dream ;  was 
Naomi's  opinion ;  and  she  thought  next  morning,  with  regular 
vexation,  on  the  friend  of  her  youth. 

A  few  days  afterwards,  Miss  Emma  told  her  that  several 
ladies  of  rank  had  resolved  to  take  riding-lessons  from  Mr. 
Ladislaf. 

"  I  will  be  one  of  the  party,"  cried  Naomi ;  and  as  the  eld- 
est daughter  of  the  house  was  also  one  of  them,  it  could  not 
well  be  refused  to  Naomi.  The  Kammerjunker  thought, 
nowever,  that  the  vagrants  had  too  much  success. 

The  year  1820  brought  many  kinds  of  casualties  to  our  be- 
'oved  Denmark :  there  was  a  leak  in  the  financial  department ; 
^r.  Dampe,  and  several  other  uneasy  heads,  tried  to  occasion 
9  leak  in  the  vessel  of  state ;  a  war  of  opinion  showed  itself 
in  matters  of  faith,  and  each  party  discovered  a  leak  in  his 
adversary.  At  a  time  of  such  great  and  general  leakiness, 
we  need  not  mention  the  leaks  which  Ladislaf  caused  in  so 
many  female  hearts,  for  these  are  to  the  machine  of  state  what 
the  water-bubbles  are  to  the  mill-wheel.  In  the  mean  time 
Ladislaf  was  conscious  of  the  power  which  he  possessed,  but 
he  betrayed  not  in  the  least  degree  this  consciousness  by  his 
behavior.  In  the  hours  of  the  riding-lessons  he  was  the  most 
chivalric,  but  at  the  same  time  the  most  silent  teacher  in  the 
world  ;  that  which  he  said  was  confined  alone  to  what  was 
necessary  for  instruction.  Now  and  then,  however,  was  to  be 
•een  a  smile  playing  around  the  handsome  mouth,  over 


214 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  1 


shadowed  by  the  dark  mustache,  and  then  the  dark  eye* 
flashed.  Emma  thought  that  this  expression  conveyed  a 
something  unpleasant ;  Naomi,  on  the  contrary,  regarded  it  as 
the  sign  of  a  suppressed  sorrow.  However,  that  might  be 
enough  ;  he  was  precisely,  because  of  it,  much  more  interest- 
ing to  the  young  ladies  than  if  he  had  possessed  the  eloquence 
of  Mirabeau. 

Not  one  of  his  female  pupils  could  match  herself  against 
Naomi  in  the  agility  and  talent  requisite  for  a  clever  rider ;  but 
then,  not  one  of  them  had  ridden  without  saddle,  over  stock 
and  stone,  as  she  had  done. 

Our  forefathers  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  the  North  scratched 
love-charms  upon  apples,  and  they  into  whose  lap  the  apple, 
which  had  been  thrown,  fell,  burned  with  violent  love.  But 
there  may  be  a  variety  of  apples  for  such  charm-writing  ;  the 
charm  may  stand  upon  the  brow,  the  smiles  of  the  lips,  and 
in  the  eyes  they  are  often  legible  enough,  says  the  poet.1  A 
hand-pressure,  a  glance,  may  be  the  apple  out  of  which  the 
already  smitten  one  sucks  poison. 

When  people  love  for  the  first  time,  they  see  the  world 
through  a  prismatic  glass  ;  upon  every  sharp  angle,  upon  every 
boundary  line,  rests  the  sevenfold  hope.  Every-day  people  are 
inspired  with  poetic  thought,  and  the  poet  sings  in  the  most 
beautiful  enthusiasm. 

A  man  of  two-and- twenty,  for  whom  a  young  girl  of  eighteen 
already  feels  an  interest,  requires  only  a  very  few  days  in 
order  to  be  beloved  by  her. 

In  the  middle  of  April  the  riders  gave  their  last  exhibition. 
The  doors  were  not  yet  open.  Two  grooms  were  busied  with 
the  horses.  By  the  side  of  the  beautiful  horse  which  Ladislaf 
was  accustomed  to  ride  might  be  seen  the  handsome  man  him- 
self standing.  The  raven-black  eyebrows  were  contracted 
above  the  dark  eyes  of  the  bronze  countenance.  As  yet  he 
was  in  his  every-day  dress,  the  short  jacket  and  the  leathern 
breeches,  which,  as  if  cast  to  the  limb,  seemed  to  yield  to 
every  muscle.  His  left  hand  rested  upon  the  shoulder  of  the 
horse,  and  was  thereby  still  more  exhibited  :  it  was  strong  and 
yet  handsomely  formed.  Ladislaf  was  reading  a  letter ;  it  waf 

1  Svend  Dyrings  Huus.    A  tragedy  by  Hertz.  —  Author's  Note. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


215 


only  a  small  sheet  of  paper,  yet  it  was  of  a  pink  color  and 
gold-edged,  and  the  gay  wafer  still  stuck  to  it.  One  could 
plainly  see  that  the  letter  was  from  a  lady.  For  that  cause, 
therefore,  perhaps  that  smile  played  around  Ladislafs  lips. 

The  critics  of  our  days  assert  that  in  ancient  times  many  of 
the  most  distinguished  works  of  the  sculptor  were  painted. 
The  objection  which  has  been  raised  that  such  works  must, 
of  necessity,  have  that  stiffness  of  finish  which  is  found  in 
wax-figures,  is  answered  by  the  remark  that  wax-figures  are  in 
fact  no  works  of  art  at  all,  but  if  they  were  elevated  to  this 
rank  then  coloring  would  enhance  the  effect  of  masterly  works. 
Whether  this  be  right  or  no  we  cannot  tell,  and  it  is  only  the 
suggested  idea  which  we  here  attach  ourselves  to.  What 
should  we  think  of  the  Vatican  Apollo  as  skillfully  painted  as 
it  is  formed,  with  the  bronze-hued  complexion  like  that  of 
Napoleon,  and  an  eye,  dark  and  sparkling,  like  that  of  the 
sons  of  Arabia  ?  —  then  we  should  have  an  image  of  the  young 
Ladislaf. 

The  performance  of  this  evening  was  the  last  which  the 
horse-riders  were  to  give.  The  public  applauded  its  favorite. 
The  baron's  family  had  taken  two  boxes ;  Naomi  and  Miss 
Emma  failed  not  to  be  there. 

The  representation  was  a  tournament.  Ladislaf  entered 
the  lists  in  the  costume  of  a  knight ;  he  made  his  salutations 
with  his  lance,  exactly  toward  the  box  in  which  Naomi  and 
Emma  were  seated  :  they  were,  to  be  sure,  his  pupils.  Emma 
blushed,  Naomi  only  smiled. 

O,  what  a  dreamful  night  was  that  for  Emma !  Naomi,  on 
the  contrary,  would  not  have  her  dreams  until  the  second 
night —  long  and  heavy  dreams,  for  it  had  already  struck  ten 
and  she  had  not  yet  made  her  appearance  at  the  breakfast- 
table. 

The  servant  was  sent  up  to  tell  her  that  breakfast  was  wait- 
ing, but  she  found  no  young  lady  there,  but  instead  of  her  a 
letter,  which  contained  a  slight  apology,  a  sort  of  a  request 
that  they  would  not  alarm  themselves,  for  on  the  last  evening 
she  had  set  off  to  Funen.  It  was  not  a  mere  accident,  she 
*rrote,  but  a  necessity  which  had  occasioned  her  to  make  this 
sudden  journey  ;  but  that  she  would  write  by  the  follow' ng 
post,  and  give  them  an  explanation  of  everything. 


2l6  ONL*  A   FIDDLER! 

This  news  made  a  great  stir ;  they  wrote  that  same  day  to 
the  old  Countess  to  announce  to  her  this  extraordinary  journey. 
For  the  rest,  people  did  not  trouble  themselves  much,  for  it 
exactly  agreed  with  Naomi's  character  suddenly  to  take  it  into 
her  head  to  set  off  to  Funen,  and  just  as  quickly  to  act  upon 
the  idea. 

A  few  days  afterward  came  an  answer  from  the  old  Countess. 

She  was  horrified  in  the  highest  degree,  for  no  Naomi  had 
arrived  there,  and  not  once  had  the  horrible  child  given  her 
any  intelligence  of  where  she  was  set  off  to. 

It  was,  as  we  have  said,  in  April.  The  spring  was  expected  : 
the  stork  was  expected  —  yes,  the  stork  :  that  is  a  strange  bird  ! 
When  he  comes  to  us  out  of  the  South  we  then  feel  an  impulse 
to  set  out  thither,  whence  he  has  come  over  to  us.  The  warm 
sunshine  entices  us  out  of  the  house  ;  we  would  so  gladly  see 
how  large  the  buds  are  become  upon  the  trees,  and  we  go  — 
out  into  the  street ;  the  Copenhageners  go  out  to  the  sea-side 
and  see  the  rapid  movement  of  the  ships.  The  steam-vessels 
send  up  their  black  columns  of  smoke  into  the  air,  the  wheels 
rush  round,  and  the  ship  flies  thence.  Longing  looks  follow 
it ;  we  turn  back  pensively  to  our  rooms.  This  or  that  poor 
soul  is  easily  satisfied  that  it  must  remain  behind.  "  It  is  here 
very  comfortable ! "  is  the  refrain  of  so  many  a  narrow- 
breasted  heart.  "  Do  we  then  only  live  to  be  comfortable  ?  " 
The  contented  soul  does  not  understand  my  question,  and  the 
tire-ship  sweeps  in  the  mean  time  past  the  sailing  ship. 

Gutskof  says  in  his  "  Wally,"  "  Nothing  is  more  agreeable 
to  shallow  minds  than  to  sketch  themselves  as  they  are  ;  their 
aunts,  their  cats,  their  shawls,  their  little  sympathies,  their 
weaknesses.  There  are  critics  and  authors  who  can  only  be- 
come enthusiastic  in  copying  reality.  Politics  are  now  only 
self-advancement.  Reality  nourishes  itself  from  its  own  over- 
flowing fatness."  The  baronial  family  might  furnish  rich  booty 
of  this  kind,  but  we  will  not  bring  forth  the  every-dayisms  of 
every-day  life,  and  we  must,  therefore,  leave  a  house  in  which 
only  these  are  to  be  found. 

Naomi  took  the  liberty  of  suddenly  setting  off.  We  wil 
do  the  same ;  we  will  also  leave  Copenhagen  ;  spring  is  really 
come;  the  steamboat  lies  ready  —  but  the  journey  is  not  to- 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  f  21  J 

ward  Funen  :  we  cannot  visit  either  Christian,  Lucie,  cr  any 
other  of  our  friends  there,  for  the  vessel  proceeds  on  the  East 
Sea  with  its  two  water-dividing  wheels.  Well,  then,  for  the 
sake  of  the  whim,  we  will  make  the  voyage  with  it  on  the  Bal- 
tic Sea,  for  booty  of  one  kind  or  other  it  will  certainly  give 
us,  —  we  must  meet  with  something.  We  will  promise  not  to 
come  home  again  till  we  have  met  with  an  adventure  that 
shall  in  some  degree  recompense  us  for  the  journey  ;  if  we 
should  meet  with  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  we  would  rather  not 
come  back  again  to  Denmark.  But  yet  we  have  an  acquaint- 
ance in  foreign  countries  —  Christian's  father,  the  poor  tailor  ; 
perhaps  he  just  now  sends  his  annual  greeting  home  with  the 
storks  which  again  visit  us. 

We  find  ourselves  already  on  board  the   Wilhelmine ;   she 

sails  away. 

"  What  is  hid  in  ocean's  void 
Is  forgotten  and  destroyed." 

No,  that  which  the  polished  surface  has  once  seen  is  quite 
differently  forgotten.  When  the  water  has  closed  behind  the 
ship's  keel  every  trace  of  the  ship  vanishes.  Were  it  not 
so,  how  many  countenances  would  look  up  from  the  water's 
surface,  if  its  mirror  preserved  the  image  of  every  one  who 
has  looked  down  into  it !  Then,  in  that  case,  the  proud  and 
handsome  face  of  Ladislaf  would  be  seen  in  it,  for  only  a  few 
days  are  passed  since  he,  with  his  whole  troop,  went  over  this 
watery  way.  The  company  had  strengthened  their  forces  with 
one  man,  a  Dane  —  a  boy  certainly  not  above  eighteen  ;  and 
yet  that  was  already  too  old  for  one  who  would  now  first  enter 
upon  such  a  track  of  art.  But  he  had  delicate,  flexible  limbs, 
the  eye  showed  power  and  good-will,  and  upon  the  fresh  lip 
curled  the  mustache.  He  was  called  Mr.  Christian ;  accord- 
ing to  his  passport  he  was  from  Funen.  He  rested  his  arm 
on  Ladislaf  s  shoulder ;  they  stood  arm-in-arm  as  they  ap- 
proached the  coast  of  Mechlenburg.  The  Dane  glanced  to- 
ward the  North,  over  the  sea,  over  the  floating  chain  of  Alps, 
which  separates  us  from  a  fourteen  days'  earlier  spring. 

Yes,  flowers  and  fields  were  fourteen  days  further  advanced 
than  when  they  commenced  their  journey. 

The  Danish  boy  pressed  a  kiss  upon  Ladislaf  s  lips.  "  I 
am  thine,"  said  be,  "  only  thine '. " 


71 8  ONLY  A   FIDDLED! 

And  Ladislaf  answered,  smiling,  "  Mine !  thou  wast  mine 
upon  the  sea  !  " 

The  company  chose  the  shortest  way  for  the  land  journey. 
It  thus  did  not  take  them  through  Liibeck  to  Hamburg,  but 
through  the  little  city  of  Molln,  which,  like  Verona  and  Assisi, 
is  celebrated  because  of  a  grave  ;  for  here  rests  the  world- 
renowned  Till  Eulenspiegel.  He  was  placed  upon  his  head 
in  his  grave  ;  an  owl  and  a  glass  are  carved  upon  his  grave- 
stone. At  one  time  the  grave  was  overshadowed  by  an  old 
lime-tree,  in  the  trunk  of  which  every  journeyman  artisan  who 
passed  by,  for  remembrance  sake  and  in  sweet  hope,  drove  in 
a  nail ;  but  in  the  war-time  it  was  cut  down.  They  tarried 
willingly  for  a  few  moments  by  this  grave,  for  the  owl  and  the 
glass  are  really  a  pun.  It  has  been  with  Eulenspiegel  as  with 
Homer  —  a  doubt  has  been  thrown  upon  his  existence  ;  it  has 
been  thought  that  more  than  one  person  is  hidden  under  this 
name.  But  we  will  not  beat  our  brains  any  more  about  that. 
I  will  prefer  wandering  further  into  Eulenspiegel's  native  city 
to  seek  for  our  Eulenspiegel  ;  then  we  have  found  our  Naomi. 

Molln  is  an  interesting  old  German  market-town.  We  wan- 
der through  one  of  the  narrow  lanes  and  into  a  house  with 
thick  walls,  dentated  gables,  and  few  windows.  Upon  the 
spacious  ground-floor  stand  the  travelling  carriage  of  the  ri- 
ders, the  host's  carriage,  and  a  heavy  roller  ;  it  seemed  as  if 
all  the  rooms  in  the  house,  with  the  single  exception  of  the 
sleeping-rooms,  incorporated  themselves  into  this  one,  which 
was  called  the  floor. 

The  troop,  since  their  landing,  had  made  .  a  journey  of 
several  miles  ;  therefore,  they  wished  now  to  refresh  them- 
selves. The  Danish  Mr.  Christian  sat  between  Ladislaf  and 
Josephine.  The  latter  was  the  lady  with  the  floating  plumes 
and  the  fluttering  banners,  accordingly  an  acquaintance  of 
ours.  There  was  no  end  of  the  laughter  and  the  mirth  ;  and 
even  Ladislaf  looked  to-day  not  so  grave  and  gloomy,  his 
proud  glance  was  become  eloquent  and  agreeable. 

"  Yet  once  more  the  beautiful  country !  "  sang  the  Bajozzo, 
and  chattered  about  "  Gefrones  und  gebacknes  Handel "  in  the 
Viennese  dialect ;  and  when  the  Danish  Mr.  Christian  spoke 
softly  about  weariness,  and  sleep,  and  dreams,  Ladislaf  nodded 
to  him  and  sang  with  Seidl,  — 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  f 

"  A  Trambiachl  kaffa  ? 
I  wisst  nid,  zwegn  we  ; 
I  ha  nur  dan  oanzing  Tram  ; 
Den  woas  i  eh." 

There  is  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  an  account  of  the  words 
of  the  Saviour  in  the  temple,  when  they  brought  before  him  a 
woman  who  had  sinned  and  was  to  be  judged.  "  Who  among 
you  is  without  sin,  let  him  throw  the  first  stone,"  spoke  the 
Redeemer,  and  all  stole  away,  one  after  the  other,  ashamed. 
Let  us  remember  these  words  of  the  Saviour,  as  we  in  the 
Danish  Christian  recognize  our  Naomi ;  let  us  remember  her 
education,  her  connections,  and  her  opinion  of  the  world. 

She  was  alone  with  Ladislaf. 

"  I  have  done  a  deal  for  thee  !  "  said  she,  in  so  melancholy 
a  voice  as  we  have  never  yet  heard  her  speak.  "  If  thou 
shouldst  ever  forget  it  ?  " 

"  Thou  wouldst  probably  remind  me  of  it,"  returned  Lad- 
islaf, smiling. 

"  No,  never !  "  said  Naomi,  "  let  things  have  what  end  they 
might.  I  have  acted  according  to  free  will :  I  did  not  like 
the  people  who  were  about  me.  Thee  alone  I  love  !  Thou 
mightst  kill  me,  and  yet  I  should  love  thee  still.  To  me  it  is 
as  if  a  fever  raged  in  my  veins,  and  yet  I  never  felt  myself  so 
happy  before.  A  long,  monotonous  life  of  so-called  good 
days,  I  hate ;  it  disgusts  me.  Much  rather  a  short  life  and 
actually  live  !  " 

"  Many  women  have  loved  me  !  "  said  Ladislaf.  "  I  could 
tell  you  foolish  stories  about  it.  There  is  not  much  in  your 
whole  sex  ;  yet  you  are  more  man  than  woman,  and  therefore 
I  may  love  you,  —  nay,  I  fancy  that  I  might  love  you  so  much 
as  to  be  jealous  of  you.  I  know  not  your  faults  yet,  but  be- 
fore we  reach  Vienna  we  shall  know  one  another  better. 
Beautiful  you  are,  and  glowing  as  a  woman  ought  to  be  ;  and 
you  think  like  a  man."  He  kissed  her  lips  and  her  forehead. 
"  On  my  breast,"  said  he,  "  you  must  think  on  the  Madonna 
and  bow  yourself  to  her." 

"  But  your  wife  at  first  must  wear  a  beard,"  said  she,  smil- 
ing. "  As  Danish  Christian,  I  am  not  afraid  of  riding  my 
horse  :  ">ut  you  will  alwavs  have  more  success  than  me,  and 
for  that  I  could  envy  you." 


22O  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

"  And  I,"  replied  Ladislaf,  "  should,  perhaps,  not  forget  it 
if  you  won  greater  applause  than  I." 

They  heard  footsteps  on  the  floor. 

"  Those  are  the  wedding-guests  !  "  said  the  waiter.  "  To- 
morrow there  is  going  to  be  a  grand  wedding  here.  The 
strangers  are  from  Liibeck;  there  are  also  some  seamen 
amongst  them." 

As  Naomi  was  about  to  cross  the  passage  with  her  lighted 
candle,  one  of  the  guests  came  toward  her  —  a  short,  broad- 
set  man,  with  a  jovial  countenance.  He  was  certainly  re- 
joicing himself  about  the  morrow's  wedding-feast !  He  had 
his  candle  in  his  hand,  and  went  directly  toward  Naomi  ;  but 
the  draught  of  air  blew  out  his  candle.  Naomi  had,  in  the 
mean  time,  seen  enough ;  she  recognized  in  the  little  man 
Peter  Vieck,  the  ship's  captain.  The  blood  mounted  to  her 
face,  she  became  crimson  ;  but  she  collected  herself  again, 
and  consoled  herself  with  the  reflection  that  it  was  impossible 
for  the  seaman  to  recognize  her  in  her  disguise.  How  could 
it  ever  occur  to  him  that  he  should  again  meet  with  the  young 
lady  of  Copenhagen,  dressed  as  a  horse-rider,  and  with  hand- 
some mustaches,  in  the  good  city  of  Molln !  She  boldly 
stepped  up  to  him,  relighted  his  candle,  and  said,  quite  un- 
constrainedly,  that  she  could  hear  by  his  German  that  he  was 
no  native. 

Peter  Vieck  smiled  and  said,  "  Good  night,  brother  1 "  a& 
he  confidentially  gave  him  a  blow  upon  his  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

*  lunburg.  —  How  pale  thou  art  grown,  since  I  saw  thee  last ! 
Faust.  —  I  have  taken  poison,  the  poison  of  doubt,  in  long  draughts,  and 
my  bad  dice  are  lying  here."  —  LENAU'S  Faust. 

DOST  thou  know  the  father-land  of  the  Hindus?  There 
the  sun  burns  hotly,  but  the  air  wafts  coolness  down 
from  the  Himalayan  glaciers  ;  the  fragrant  woods  invite  to  re- 
pose ;  the  fig-tree  bows  its  branches  to  the  earth,  sends  forth 
new  shoots,  and  thus  forms  a  bower ;  the  cocoa-palm  offers 
thee  milk ;  the  date-palm  her  fruit ;  whilst  beautiful  birds  flut- 
ter around  thee  —  purple-red  parrots,  golden  birds  of  paradise. 
Here  is  the  realm  of  color !  That  thou  seest  in  the  wings  of 
the  insects  as  well  as  in  the  leaves  of  the  magnificent  flowers. 
The  swelling  river,  where  the  blue  lotus  grows,  is  holy  as  the 
water  of  baptism.  Father-land  of  the  Hindus,  thou  art  pos- 
sessed of  that  which  is  the  brightest  and  the  most  transparent ! 
Is  it  thy  sky  or  thy  still  lakes,  in  which  the  antelope  and  the 
leopard  quench  their  thirst  ? 

Here  lay,  so  says  tradition,  the  garden  of  Eden,  out  of 
which  Adam  and  Eve  were  driven  ;  here  still  blooms  the  gar- 
den of  Eden,  and  it  is  the  home  of  the  outcast,  unfortunate 
Pariah.  The  wild  Mongolian  hordes  drove  out  the  children  of 
the  country.  The  Pariah  shares  the  fate  of  the  wandering  Jew. 
People  call  the  wandering  people  by  the  various  names  of 
Egyptians,  Tartars,  Gypsies.  Even  in  the  North,  upon  the 
sterile  moors  of  Jutland,  wander,  homelessly,  the  Pariah's 
younger  race  —  Tartar-folks  :  kettle-menders  we  call  them. 
A  corn-field  is  their  summer-dwelling,  a  deep  ditch  their  win- 
ter-chamber. The  children  of  the  Pariah  have  not,  like  the 
fox,  a  hole,  or  the  birds  of  the  air,  a  nest ;  they  dwell  in  storm 
and  wind  upon  the  bare  moor  ;  their  children  are  born  in  the 
fields.  With  her  first  returning  strength  the  mother  must  set 
forth  again  on  her  journey,  with  her  helpless  child  on  hei 


222  ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  t 

back.  Supported  on  her  staff,  she  wanders  by  her  husband's 
side  over  the  uneven  moors  ;  the  cold  sea- air  blows,  the  heav- 
ens are  gray  and  wet,  yet  she  knows  nothing  better. 

Upon  the  heaths  of  Jutland,  as  on  the  walls  of  the  Alham- 
bra,  we  find  the  dispersed  race  of  the  Pariah  :  yet  their  herds 
are  most  numerous  in  the  woods  of  Hungary  and  upon  the 
great  deserts.  The  throne  of  the  gypsy-king  is  the  mossy 
stone  beside  the  kettle  in  which  is  boiled  the  stolen  sheep. 
Wearied  with  their  wandering  the  crowd  rest  in  the  long  grass, 
where  the  black-eyed  children  play  with  the  flowers. 

No  collected  troop  of  them  dare  to  show  themselves  in  the 
imperial  city  ;  only  singly  or  by  pairs  steal  they  through  the 
streets,  still  more  suspected  and  still  more  closely  watched 
than  even  the  poor  Sclavonian.1  They  show  themselves  most 
numerously  in  the  suburbs,  each  of  which  surpasses  old  Vi- 
enna in  size. 

In  the  suburb  of  Maria-hilf,  where  the  alley  leads  toward 
Schonbrunn,  there  walked  in  the  year  1820  —  in  that  year  in 
which  Naomi  began  her  career  —  two  gypsies  in  their  white 
costume,  with  their  great  brown  cloaks.  One  of  them  was 
quite  a  young  man,  who  wore  one  of  the  broad  Sclavonian 
hats,  the  brim  of  which  hung  down  upon  his  neck  and  shoul- 
ders ;  the  second  was  much  older,  tall  and  thin,  and  he  went 
with  his  head  bare.  His  thick  black  hair,  which,  however, 
had  some  gray  specks  in  it,  served  him  as  a  shelter  against 
the  burning  sun.  They  passed  through  one  of  the  many  par- 
allel streets  which  lead  from  Maria-hilf  to  the  Belvidere 
Palace. 

"The  suburbs  might  bring  the  city  into  a  complete  di- 
lemma," said  the  younger.  "  I  dreamed  last  night  that  Maria- 
hilf,  Josephstadt,  and  all  the  four-and-thirty  suburbs,  set  them- 
selves in  motion  and  went  up  against  the  city,  which  was  led 
on  by  the  tower  of  St.  Stephen's.  They  fought  until  the  white 
and  yellow  money  rolled  in  the  Danube." 

"  You  had  been  drinking  too  much  strong  water,"  replied 
the  old  man.  "  Be  prudent,  Ezekles  !  don't  tell  such  dreams 
—  the  police  have  long  ears.  Besides,  is  that  a  sort  of  thing 
for  a  young  fellow  to  dream  about  ?  You  should  dream  about 
pretty  girls !  " 

1  To  these  it  is  not  permitted  to  remain  a  night  in  the  city. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  22$ 

"  But  I  dream  more  about  war,"  said  Ezekles.  "  If  I  were 
but  a  soldier  !  then  I  could  present  arms  before  the  Emperor, 
before  the  good  Emperor  Franz  !  He  put  his  hand  to  his  hat 
when  I  uncovered  my  head  before  him,  and  that  was  only  to 
salute  me  ;  for  I  went  quite  alone  on  the  road.  What  other- 
wise regards  my  dream,  it  was  foolish  enough.  St.  Stephen's 
Church,  with  the  pointed  hat,  was  the  general ;  it  has  broad 
shoulders  and  ancient  strength  :  the  Trinity  column  in  the 
Graben  was  his  baton.  The  Emperor  Joseph's  statue  sprang 
upon  his  bronze  horse  over  the  Kohlmarkt,  and  through  the 
Karnthner  Street ;  they  called  down  all  the  figures  from  the 
signs,  and  they  followed  them.1  The  marble  warrior  out  of 
the  Volk's  garden  set  itself  on  the  point  of  the  marble  image 
of  the  Kapuziner  Church  ;  and  they  mounted  the  wall  and  the 
Kaiserburg,  and  looked  toward  the  hither-advancing  suburbs. 
The  villages  of  Hitzing  and  Wahring  united,  and  there  was  a 
noise  far  worse  than  there  is  in  the  Volk's  garden  and  the 
Prater  on  a  merry  day." 

"  How  the  human  brain  can  build  up  one  thing  to  another  ?  " 
said  the  old  man.  "  Take  care  of  getting  drunk,  Ezekles  ! 
Strong  drinks  put  a  magic  circle  round  us.  At  first  it  looks 
very  beautiful ;  but  after  we  have  swallowed  down  a  few 
glasses  it  draws  near  to  us,  winds  us  up  in  its  web,  and  only 
shows  us  from  without  that  which  we  imagine.  It  winds  us 
up  so  tight  that  we  are  no  longer  master  of  our  own  limbs.  On 
that  we  sleep,  and  the  fumes  get  dispersed ;  but  when  we 
again  awake  we  feel  that  our  limbs  have  been  bound,  and  that 
during  the  debauch  reason  has  slept  too  soundly  to  be  able  to 
give  any  account  of  that  which  has  taken  place  in  the  sleep." 

They  went  on  their  way,  nor  did  they  relax  in  their  speed 
until  they  came  to  the  Heugasse,  where  they  could  see  the 
palace,  which  is  just  on  the  limits  of  the  suburb. 

"  You  would  be  a  soldier,  Ezekles  ?  "  said  the  old  man. 

"  Yes,  here  in  Vienna ;  I  should  like  best  to  bear  arms  be- 
fore the  Kaiserburg." 

1  In  Vienna  every  shop  has  a  sign  from  which  it  is  named  :  For  exam* 
pie,  the  Cardinal,  Madame  Catalani,  the  King  of  Denmark,  etc.  These 
signs  have,  not  unfrequently,  great  resemblance  to  the  originals  —  often 
have  great  artistic  value  ;  as,  for  instance,  "  The  Young  Tobias,"  before 
the  apothecary's.  —  AutJwr's  Note. 


224  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

"  That  would  be  a  fettered  life,  Ezekles.  You  would  soon 
begin  to  long  for  your  liberty.  Restlessness  lies  in  our  legs, 
just  as  much  as  the  desire  to  steal  in  the  mouse  which  is  un 
der  our  thumb.  If  you  ran  away  you  would  get  hanged  " 

"  Well,"  replied  the  younger,  "  whether  we  are  gnawed  by 
the  worms  or  pecked  by  the  birds  is  all  one  at  bottom  But 
why  should  we  always  imagine  the  worst  ?  " 

"  To  be  food  for  the  birds,  that  would  be  something  !  "  said 
the  old  man  ;  it  would  be  a  proud  coffin  to  be  buried  in  their 
stomachs  ;  that  is  to  say,  to  be  always  on  one's  travels,  like 
our  companions  in  life.  I  will  remember  your  words,  when  I 
am  wandering  about  in  the  Hungarian  woods  and  hear  the 
son^  of  the  birds.  Perhaps  I  should  soon  hear  the  ravens 
cry,  which  pecked  out  the  eyes  of  my  dearest  friend.  Believe 
me,  Ezekles,  I  never  saw  brighter  eyes  than  those  of  my  son 
Bela.  You  know,  indeed,  his  son  Ladislaf ;  he  is  the  image 
of  his  father,  only  still  prouder :  there  is  more  black  blood  in 
him.  Bela  was  better,  although  they  hung  him  on  the  gallows. 
But  people  shout  hurrah  before  the  son  when  he  sweeps  past 
on  his  horse,  although  he  deeply  despises  them  in  his  heart." 

"  He  has  actually  left  his  race  !  "  said  the  younger. 

"  And  yet  he  has  no  peace  in  himself,"  continued  the  other. 
"  He  makes  greater  journeys  than  we  do ;  he  has  travelled 
across  the  great  sea,  which  is  broader  than  the  whole  of  Hun- 
gary :  only  think  of  such  a  Danube  ?  He  has  visited  all  the 
kings  and  emperors,  in  their  own  countries,  which  we  saw 
here  at  the  congress.  He  flies  much  further  than  the  bird  of 
passage,  and  he  has  good  luck  in  all  that  he  does." 

During  this  conversation  they  had  reached  the  fa£ade  of  the 
palace,  which  turns  toward  the  great  plain.  Here  sat  groups 
of  soldiers,  and  talked  together  ;  strangers  and  natives  went 
in  and  came  out  from  the  great  picture  gallery.  The  gypsies 
silently  contemplated  the  palace  building,  which  is  not  distin- 
guished by  anything  very  striking ;  but  whoever  had  watched 
the  old  man's  eye  would  immediately  have  observed  that  he 
was  looking  for  something  at  the  windows  :  they  stationed 
themselves  at  the  open  garden  door,  yet  without  going  into  the 
garden.  Many  people  were  walking  in  the  stiffly  cut  walks 
and  amid  the  scenes,  which  are  all  laid  o:  i  in  the  style  of 
Louis  Quntorze. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  225 

The  whole  lower  story  of  the  palace  is  filkd  with  excellent 
pictures.  The  connoisseur  finds  beautiful  things  here,  espe- 
cially of  the  Dutch  school.  On  this  day  there  were  many  stran- 
gers looking  through  the  gallery ;  some  admired  Gherardins' 
masterpieces  in  bass-relief;  others  the  rich  collection  of 
Rubens. 

Attention  was  excited  by  the  rapidity  with  which  a  young  man 
with  fine  features  and  intelligent  eyes  went  from  one  picture 
to  another,  and  then  again  stepped  to  the  window,  to  enjoy 
the  view  of  the  Imperial  city  and  the  Hungarian  mountains. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  horse-riders  in  the  Prater !  "  all  said 
who  saw  him.  We,  however,  know  the  young  Naomi. 

Another  interest  than  that  about  the  pictures  had  attracted 
her  to  the  Belvidere,  and  for  this  reason  her  observation  of  the 
pictures  was  so  rapid.  One  piece  alone  excited  her  sympathy, 
and  to  this  she  turned  back  many  times :  it  was  Vandyke's 
Samson  when  betrayed  by  Delilah, — that  masterpiece  of  the 
great  artist.  The  painful  reproaches  which  lie  in  Samson's 
looks  are  so  eloquent  that  they  would  be  understood  from 
Greenland  to  Otaheite.  Delilah's  indifference,  the  interest  of 
the  hostess  —  yes,  that  is  reality  itself !  Was  it  the  exquisite 
delineation  of  art  alone  which  fettered  Naomi  to  this  picture, 
or  was  it  that  association  of  ideas  gave  a  deep  meaning  to 
the  subject  ?  We  may  not  betray  it.  She  often  stepped  to  the 
window  and  looked  down  into  the  valley,  only  to  return  again 
immediately  to  Vandyke's  Samson.  Tempestuous  thoughts 
agitated  her  bosom. 

As  she  yet  again  approached  the  window,  she  became  aware 
of  the  gypsies.  She  speedily  left  the  hall  and  descended  the 
steps.  The  gypsies  saw  her  coming,  yet  no  sign  had  been 
given :  they  went  slowly  forward ;  Naomi  followed  them  at 
some  distance. 

As  they  approached  a  small  house,  from  which  a  footpath 
wound  through  the  field,  the  elder  one  remained  behind,  as  it 
seemed,  to  fasten  his  shoe-tie  ;  the  younger,  in  the  mean  time, 
went  onward.  Naomi  advanced  to  the  elder,  and  spoke  with 
him  about  Ladislaf ;  but  Naomi  heard  nothing  good. 

"  Thou  liest !"  she  cried,  embittered. 

"  Do  I  lie  ? "  asked  the  old  man.  "  He  is,  however,  of  my 
15 


226  ONLY  A  FIDDLER. 

own  flesh  and  blood  ;  but  it  is  bad  blood,  that  has  caused  me 
a  deal  of  trouble.  His  father  was  my  son.  Ladislaf  looks 
scornfully  down  upon  his  grandfather  and  his  whole  race  ; 
he  does  not  hate  those  who  hate  his.  I  have  told  him  the 
truth,  and  his  whip  has  made  a  red  weal  upon  my  shoulder. 
I  shall  remember  it  of  him  !  A  man  may  forget  the  clear, 
fresh  water  which  was  to  him  a  refreshing  draught,  but  he 
never  forgets  the  marshy,  bitter  water  which  he  has  drunk, 
Ladislaf  may  love  you  to-day,  but  to-morrow  he  will  cease  to 
do  so  ;  and  because  he  has  loved  you  he  will  be  your  tor- 
mentor. I  know  very  well  that  you  are  no  man.  I  have  had 
experience  enough  to  be  able  to  see  the  past,  and  of  the  future 
I  will  be  silent ;  it  easily  explains  itself.  Beware  of  him  ;  and 
if  you  are  possessed  of  a  heart  like  your  disguise,  then  punish 
him  when  you  can.  That  I  might  say  this  to  you,  have  I 
appointed  this  meeting.  This  evening  you  may  meet  him  in 
Hitzing  :  there  are  handsome  women  there  !  " 

"  But  I  am  not  a  woman  !  "  said  Naomi ;  "  you  are  mistaken. 
Ladislaf  is  not  good  j  I  will  credit  what  you  say  ;  but  let  him 
love  the  women  —  I  do  that  myself!  Nobody  can  enjoy  his 
youth  more  than  I  do,  and  success  is  dear  to  me." 

"  And  yet  the  blood  mounts  to  your  head  ! "  said  the  old 
man.  "  My  eyes  do  not  see  amiss,  and  my  words  have  found 
their  man.  "  He  made  his  bow  and  went  on. 

Naomi  was  undecided  whether  to  follow  the  old  man  or  not ; 
but  anon  she  came  to  a  determination,  and  turned  back  to- 
ward the  city  through  the  old  French  gardens. 

The  gesellschaftswagen l  rolled  from  Peter's  Platz  toward 
Schonbrunn  and  Hitzing.  Naomi  took  a  place.  She  joked 
with  the  rest  of  the  company,  for  they  all  were  inclined  to 
amuse  themselves.  The  honest  Viennese  talked  in  raptures 
about  their  good  Emperor  and  Wiirstl  and  Handl,  and  of  the 
brothers  Shuster  —  all  pell-mell,  as  is  commonly  the  case  in 
the  Babel  of  conversation.  Just  opposite  to  Naomi  sat  a  some- 
what malapert-looking  young  artist :  he  perceived  by  her  accent 
that  she  was  not  a  native  ;  he  had  seen  her  in  the  Prater, 
and  now  told  her  that  she  would  meet  her  master  in  Hitzing, 
where  he  often  came.  "  Her  master ! "  repeated  she  to  her 
»elf,  and  the  stranger  mentioned  Ladislaf.  They  reached 
A  kind  of  omnibus,  which  goes  every  half  hour. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  1 27 

the  pleasure-place  of  Schonbrunn  in  whose  fragrant  alleys 
"  the  Son  of  the  Man " l  had  wandered  with  his  mysteri- 
ous thoughts :  where  Silvio  Pellico  had  stepped  behind  the 
bushes,  that  he  might  not  terrify  the  Emperor  by  his  sickly 
appearance.  Poor  children  followed  the  carriage,  and  threw, 
as  they  drove  past,  nosegays  to  them  within,  in  order  to 
receive  back  a  few  kreutzers.  The  artist  caught  a  bouquet, 
and  threw  it,  smiling,  into  the  lap  of  Naomi :  she  involuntarily 
made  a  feminine  movement  to  catch  the  flowers ;  the  artist 
smiled  again,  and  she  felt  the  blood  burning  in  her  face. 

Close  by  Schonbrunn  lies  the  little  country-town  of  Hitzing, 
with  its  church  and  its  beautiful  country-houses.  The  music 
resounded  charmingly  from  the  casino,  which  was  at  that 
time  as  much  visited  as  now,  only  not  as  much  celebrated  by 
Strauss's  and  Lanner's  orchestras.  The  little  garden,  crammed 
in  between  the  adjoining  houses,  was  then  just  as  much  filled 
with  tables  and  tents  as  we  now  see  it. 

Ladislaf  sat  between  two  young  girls  at  a  table.  Naomi 
took  a  seat  at  the  next  table ;  Saul's  evil  thoughts  raged  in 
her  soul,  but  the  exultant  music  produced  not  upon  her  the 
tranquillizing  effect  of  the  tones  of  David's  harp.  The 
buoyant  dancing  tunes  breathed  the  animating  spirit  of  the 
Volk's  theatre,  the  delights  of  Schonbrunn  and  the  Prater  ; 
all  hearts  accorded  to  the  words,  "  There's  but  one  imperial 
city  —  there's  but  one  Vienna !  "  But  in  Naomi's  ears  the  joy- 
ous melodies  sounded  only  like  sighs  and  the  laugh  of  deris- 
ion ;  they  were  the  cold  gales  from  the  damp  dungeons  of  Spiel- 
berg, and  the  stifling  heat  from  the  leaden-roofed  chambers  of 
Venice,  which  she  breathed. 

Ladislaf  looked  at  her  with  proud  and  arrogant  glances  ; 
she  also  looked  at  him,  but  she  seemed  not  to  know  him  : 
and  yet  they  followed  each  other  as  the  shadow  follows  the 
body. 

The  elasticity  of  human  thought  knows  no  bounds ;  it  is 
immeasurable  as  infinite  space,  which  the  astronomers  de- 
scribe to  us  as  boundless.  The  grandeur  of  the  spirit  in- 
creases our  horizon  ;  but  suffering  and  important  moments 
of  our  lives  possess  this  power  also,  and  not  unfrequently  da 
1  ••  Le  fils  de  1'homme  "  of  Barthe'lerai,  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt.  —  Ait- 
Note. 


228  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

our  thoughts  place  us  in  a  heaven  or  in  a  hell.  Naomi  looked 
with  the  eyes  of  a  Newton,  but  she  only  gazed  into  a  diabol- 
ical abyss. 

When  the  open  air  was  exchanged  for  the  lighted  saloon, 
Ladislaf  and  Naomi  met  in  the  dance.  She  was  compelled  to 
dance  with  a  lady,  her  disguise  demanded  that,  and  there  lay 
on  Ladislaf  s  lips  a  jeering  smile  because  of  it ;  yet  he  said 
nothing  to  her,  and  she  just  as  little  to  him.  She  moved  to 
the  stormy  music,  an  Ixion  upon  the  burning  wheel.  Her 
bosom  heaved  wildly,  her  eyes  sparkled  :  Ladislaf  seemed  to 
be  cold,  a  male  Turandot,  with  the  proud,  deriding  smile. 
O,  what  pangs  the  human  heart  may  create  for  itself!  It 
always  beats,  it  always  bleeds,  —  that  is  necessary  for  the 
maintenance  of  life. 

Ladislaf  vanished  in  the  throng  •  in  vain  Naomi's  eyes 
sought  for  him.  It  was  already  late ;  the  last  gesellschafts- 
wagen  was  gone,  and  there  were  now  only  a  few  peasants  with 
their  barrier  wagons  *  drawn  up  before  the  saloon-house.  A 
gentleman  with  two  ladies  mounted  into  one  of  them  ;  yes,  it 
was  Ladislaf!  Naomi  also  quickly  seated  herself  under  the 
tented  covering,  and  the  wagon  rolled  on  toward  the  city. 

The  lights  of  Hitzing  and  Schonbrunn  shone  through  the 
dark  trees  ;  several  respectable  citizen  families  sat  likewise  in 
the  wagon,  and  were  very  merry ;  they  talked  about  elves  and 
fairies,  with  which  the  good  Viennese  are  very  well  acquainted, 
from  the  Volk's  theatre ;  they  quoted  witticisms  of  Kasperle 
and  Pumpernickel,  and  chatted  about  their  three  Schusters,* 
especially  Ignaz  —  the  glorious,  witty  Ignaz  ! 

1  The  wicker  wagons  with  their  arched  coverings  are  so-called,  because 
they  are  not  allowed  to  drive  further  than  the  city  barriers  or  limits.  — 
Author's  Note. 

2  Three  brothers,  and  celebrated  comic  actors  of  the  Leopold-stadt  the- 
atre, of  whom,  however,  Ignaz  is  the  greatest  favorite.    They  gave  occa- 
sion to  the  piece  called  "The  Three  Schusters  "  (or  Shoemakers),  in  whick 
the  parts  were  given  thus  (Anglicizing  the  proper  names) :  — 

Mr.  Anton  Shoemaker,  a  > 

Master  Shoemaker  .  .  \  Mr"  Anton  Shoemaker. 
Mr.  Joseph  Shoemaker,  a 

Master  Shoemaker 


^ 

•  a  ) 

>  Mr.  Joseph  Shoemaker. 


Mr.  Ignaz  Shoemaker,  a 

r  air.  ignaz  onoemanc 

Author's  ffttt 


•  a  > 
Master  Shoemaker  .  .  \  Mf'  IgnaZ  Shoemaker' 


ONLY  A    UDDLER!  229 

We  do  not  know  the  comic  three-leaved  Schusters  ;  do  not 
know  the  brilliant  period  of  the  Leopold-stadt  theatre,  but  we 
can  imagine  it  to  ourselves.  And  it  we  have  not  also  ac- 
quaintance with  the  muse  of  Baurle,  yet  we  do  know  that  of 
Raismend  and  Nestroy,  and  we  might  amuse  ourselves  with 
the  honest  Viennese  in  the  barrier  wagon  with  the  fairy  world 
of  the  Volk's  theatre,  in  which  the  good  souls  fancy  them- 
selves placed  where  they  see  the  lights  shining  from  Hitzing 
and  Schonbrunn  through  the  dark  trees. 

In  one  of  these  farces  one  sees  the  prince  of  the  spirit  world 
sitting  upon  a  bed  ;  he  rings  for  the  chambermaid,  and  asks, 
"  What  wet  clouds  are  these  which  they  have  given  me  for  a 
bed  ?  "  —  "  It  is  impossible,"  was  the  reply,  "  for  you  to  have 
any  drier  this  year ;  the  police  even  have  made  a  complaint 
about  it.  The  seasons  now  run  one  into  another  ;  it  is  not 
now  any  longer  as  it  was  in  the  old  times."  —  "  Call  me  the 
Seasons  here !  "  replied  the  king  of  the  spirit  world.  These 
appear.  Winter  is  an  old  man,  who  is  supported  by  his  staff. 
The  prince  calls  him  before  him.  "  What  is  this  that  I  hear  ? " 
asked  he  ;  "  that  thou  art  beginning  to  be  so  damp  in  thy  old 
days!  You  must  leave  that  off!  Every  one  of  you  must 
attend  better  to  his  post  than  you  have  done,  else  you  will 
have  your  dismissal,  and  that  without  a  pension  !  "  The  Sea- 
sons were  quite  in  a  perplexity,  and  respectfully  kissed  the 
king's  hand  and  promised  amendment. 

In  another  farce  one  sees  a  respectable  Viennese  family, 
which  has  read  so  many  romances  about  knights  that  they  are 
come  to  the  opinion  that  the  times  of  knighthood  must  have 
•;een  much  more  glorious  than  those  of  the  present  day. 
~^hey  then  fall  asleep,  and  when  they  again  awake  they  are  in 
knightly  costume,  and  find  themselves  set  back  in  those  happy 
days  of  chivalry.  A  robber-knight  is  announced,  who  comes 
to  ask  the  hand  of  the  daughter,  and  the  whole  family  is  en- 
raptured at  so  splendid  a  match.  But  they  soon  become 
acquainted  with  the  whole  coarseness  of  the  times  ;  they  must 
do  without  all  conveniences  of  life,  and  at  last  are  led  into  the 
Castle-dungeon  to  die  of  hunger.  With  that  they  all  wish 
themselves  back  again  into  our  happy  times,  in  which  there  is 
roasted  Hdndl,  and  where  one  can  drive  to  Hitzing  and  go  to 


230  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

the  theatre  in  the  Vorstadt  Cured  of  their  whims,  the  magic 
brings  them  back  again  into  our  better  and  our  happier  times. 

Ah,  how  Naomi  wished  that  that  magic-world,  of  which  the 
honorable  citizens  talked,  was  but  reality  1  Like  the  castle 
spirit  which  turned  to  stone  the  detestable  bridal-company, 
she  would  have  changed  into  stone  Ladislaf  and  the  two 
women  ;  yet  he  should  only  have  been  half  petrified,  like 
Prince  Agib  in  the  fairy  tale :  his  brain  should  still  have 
thought,  his  heart  should  still  have  bled,  that  he  might  prop- 
erly have  felt  his  pangs. 

They  dismounted  from  the  wagon  at  the  barriers.  Ladis- 
laf made  pretense  that  he  now  for  the  first  time  recognized 
Naomi,  and  threw  his  arm  so  heavily  upon  her  shoulder  that 
she  certainly  must  have  felt  the  effect  of  it  for  some  time,  and 
said  laughing,  "  See,  friend  Christian,  thou  too  goest  out 
seeking  adventures  !  Now,  that  I  like  in  thee,  my  boy !  I 
would  properly  caress  thee  because  thou  dost  like  the  rest  of 
us ! "  With  these  words  he  embraced  and  caressed  poor 
Naomi  with  great  violence. 

"  Let  me  be  ! "  cried  she  ;  "  I  am  not  of  the  party !  "  And 
with  looks  which  were  more  eloquent  than  words  she  turned 
herself  from  him  and  offered  to  one  of  the  two  girls  her  arm, 
who  willingly  took  it. 

In  the  interior  of  the  city  of  Vienna  there  are  many  streets^ 
which  are  connected  one  with  another  by  gates  and  the  court* 
of  private  houses.  A  stranger  who  is  unacquainted  with  the 
locality  finds  himself  all  at  once  in  another  neighboring  street, 
when  he  had  fancied  himself  to  be  entering  a  house. 

Ladislaf  and  his  lady  went  into  one  such  house ;  Naomi 
followed  after  them. 

"  But  where  are  they  ? "  asked  she  of  her  companion. 

This  one  laughed,  and  led  Naomi  up  a  winding  stone  stairs» 
but  no  Ladislaf  was  to  be  seen.  The  girl  pulled  at  the  bell- 
handle  which  hung  at  the  door. 

"  Where  are  the  others  ? "  asked  Naomi  again. 

"  They  are  there,  and  we  are  here !  "  replied  her  companion. 
The  door  opened  ;  an  elderly,  well-dressed  lady,  with  a  silver 
branch-candlestick  in  her  hand,  welcomed  them. 

"  The  deuce ! "  exclaimed  Naomi,  and  flew  stumbling  down 


ONLY  A   FIDDLEK1  23! 

the  steps.  She  saw  by  the  light  that  she  was  followed  ;  she 
quickly,  therefore,  entered  the  street :  here  also  nobody  was 
visible.  "  Ladislaf !  "  stammered  she,  and  bit  her  lip  so  vio- 
lently that  it  bled. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  she  was  in  her  dwelling  in  the 
Prater  :  Ladislaf  was  not  yet  come.  She  threw  herself,  with- 
out undressing,  on  her  bed  ;  but  no  tears  came  to  her  eyes, 
no  sigh  escaped  from  her  lips.  Some  one  was  now  heard  to 
approach ;  it  was  he. 

They  looked  silently  at  each  other. 

"  Thou  hast  probably  amused  thyself  well !  "  said  Ladislaf, 
with  a  malicious  countenance. 

Naomi  was  silent  and  looked  at  him  with  a  proud  and 
sorrowful  expression  ;  he  scornfully  returned  her  glance,  and 
then  laughed  aloud. 

Her  lips  trembled  as  if  they  would  open  themselves  to 
speak ;  but  she  was  still  silent. 

"  Hast  thou  not  seen,"  said  he,  "  that  my  mare,  when  she 
stands  loose  in  her  stall,  follows  me  neighing  when  I  go 
through  ?  She  does  that  out  of  pure  love,  and  therefore  I 
caress  her.  Thou  also  followest  me,  but  from  quite  another 
impulse.  I  might  be  tempted  also  to  caress  thee,  but  according 
to  deserts  !  " 

With  these  words  he  took  up  a  switch  from  the  table,  and 
lashed  the  air  with  it  so  close  to  Naomi  that  the  end  caught 
her  neck. 

It  was  the  bite  of  the  tarantula !  Cold  as  ice,  she  stared  at 
him.  "  Ladislaf! "  was  the  only  word  which  she  could  utter  , 
she  then  left  the  room. 

Josephine  slept. 

Without,  all  was  still  and  dark  ;  the  roll  of  carriages  alone 
sounded  in  the  distance.  The  night  was  bright  with  stars  ; 
Charles's-wain  pointed  toward  the  North.  Did  Naomi  think 
on  her  home  in  the  north,  or  did  her  thoughts  linger  in  the 
wooden  abode  of  the  son  of  the  Pariah,  with  the  proud  Ladis- 
af  ?  Not  a  tear  moistened  her  eye,  not  a  sigh  sounded  from 
her  lips  ;  with  her  eye  riveted  on  the  starry  image,  she  went 
en  thoughtfully  a.  few  paces.  So  gazed  once  Ariadne  across 
the  sea,  when  sne  was  convinced  that  Theseus  had  forsaken 


232 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


her.  Hers  was  the  smile  of  Medea  when  she  met  Jason  at 
Kreusa. 

On  the  self-same  night,  at  the  self-same  hour,  upon  the 
monotonous  high-road  of  Zealand,  two  other  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  self-same  star,  but  as  hopefully  and  trustfully  as 
Leander  when  he  threw  himself  into  the  waves  of  the  Helles- 
pont and  swam  toward  the  fire  which  Hero  had  kindled  for 
him. 

Along  the  high-road  of  Zealand  Christian  travelled  alone 
this  night,  on  his  way  to  Copenhagen.  He  had  come  to  the 
conviction  that  he  should  learn  nothing  which  was  proper  to 
be  known  with  Mr.  Knepus,  and  that  he  must  go  out  into  the 
world  if  he  were  to  do  any  good.  Peter  Vieck  was  wrathful 
about  it,  and  had  said,  "  For  my  part,  Christian  may  steer  his 
own  vessel  himself!  "  Lucie  had  wept;  but  Christian's  un- 
derstanding was  matured.  He  carried  with  him  letters  of 
introduction,  and  as  there  was  one  amongst  them  to  one  of 
the  royal  footmen,  he  dreamed  of  something  quite  different  to 
mere  promises  and  shakes  of  the  hand.  The  quiet  summer 
night  was  pleasant  in  the  highest  degree ;  the  postilion  blew  a 
hunting-song,  and  echo  repeated  the  slow  tones  from  the 
heights  opposite  to  Antvorskov.1  Beyond  all  others  shone 
one  bright  star  in  heaven  ;  it  was  Cygnus  —  the  swan,  as  the 
inhabitants  of  the  South  call  it.  That  is  my  star  of  fortune, 
thought  Christian,  as  he  asked  his  travelling-companion  the 
name  of  this  star.  "  The  evening-hen  we  call  it, "  replied  he 
of  whom  the  inquiry  was  made. 

Christian  thought  upon  Naomi;  but  she  gave  free  course 
to  her  thoughts,  let  them  seek  out  every  bitter  flower  which 
had  grown  up  in  her  heart  within  the  last  few  months,  and 
from  every  flower  she  sucked  in  poison. 

She  listened ;  she  thought  she  heard  the  dashing  of  the 
Danube.  A  falling  star  flew  through  the  air,  as  some  day  the 
steam-balloon  will  cut  through  the  clouds. 

She  turned  back  to  the  home  where  Ladislaf  slept ;  but  she 
remained  on  the  ground-floor,  seated  herself  on  the  lowest 
step  of  the  stairs,  laid  her  arm  on  the  balustrade,  and  leaned 

1  Antvorskov  was  in  ancient  times  a  celebrated  monastery,  and  is  still  • 
irge  estate  near  Slagelse.  —  Author's  Note. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  233 

ner  head  in  her  hand.  She  slept  as  the  Arab  sleeps,  who 
slumbers  with  his  mortal  enemy  in  the  same  tent :  they  have 
eaten  and  drunk  with  each  other  ;  hospitality  is  the  sacred 
shield  which  stands  between  the  two.  They  offer  to  each 
other  the  hand  and  —  sleep,  but  their  last  thought  is,  We  meet 
in  another  place  !  The  son  of  the  Pariah  and  the  daughttr 
of  Israel  have  Asiatic  blood  ;  the  hot  sun  glows  in  it 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"  Ladislaas  i  Ladislaus  !  sounds  anew,  and  the  same  voice  cries  site* 
ward  still  Icuder  :  No  !  "  —  CASTELLI. 

"  It  is  a  strange  thing :  I  spoke  German  and  thou  Danish,  and  yet  we 
understood  each  other  in  a  trice.  Yes,  my  friend,  the  language  lies  in  the 
eyes  and  its  key  in  the  heart."  —  Album  leaf  for  H.  C.  ANDERSEN,  by 
CASTELLI. 

I  WILL  hence,"  said  Naomi  to  Josephine,  the  rider  with 
the  waving  plumes  in  her  turban  and  the  fluttering  ban- 
ners, —  "I  will  hence,  let  me  find  bread  or  death." 

Josephine  laughed.  "  We  will  drive  this  forenoon  together 
to  Josephsdorf  and  Kloster  Neuburg,"  said  she ;  "  we  two  in 
the  little  cabriolet,  with  the  fleet-footed  Orlando :  I  will,  for 
your  sake,  set  at  defiance  the  scandal  of  driving  out  alone 
with  the  young,  fiery  jockey.  You  will  then  get  into  a  better 
temper,  and  Ladislaf  will  kiss  away  the  marks  which  the  switch 
has  made  on  your  lovely  neck  :  and  then  there  will  be  a  rec- 
onciliation feast,  in  which  we  can  all  of  us  take  part." 

"  Never  ! "  answered  Naomi. 

"  Indeed  !  no  misanthropy  and  no  repentance !  "  *  said  Jo- 
sephine ;  "  now  that  will  look  still  merrier." 

"  Assist  me  in  getting  a  passport  to  Hungary  or  Bavaria," 
prayed  Naomi :  "  it  is  all  one  where  I  go,  if  I  can  only  get 
away  and  never  see  him  again." 

u  First  of  all  we  will  take  our  drive,"  replied  Josephine  ; 
"we  will  taste  the  chocolate  in  Josephsdorf,  and  look  down 
from  the  mountains  and  see  whether  the  valley  of  the  Danube 
cannot  awaken  in  you  the  desire  to  remain  here.  One  must 
not  overhasten,  must  never  take  too  great  steps  ;  which,  after 
all,  are  not  becoming  to  ladies." 

»  The  Leopold's  Day  ;  or,  No  Misanthrophy  and  No  Repentance,  —  a  piece 
which  at  that  time  was  often  given  at  the  Volk's  theatre — Author* t 


ONLY  A  FIDDLEkl  2  $5 

"  It  is  not  the  first  time  that  he  has  filled  my  heart  with  poi- 
Bon,"  said  Naomi.  "  In  Toplitz,  fourteen  days  after  I  had 
left  my  home  for  his  sake,  I  understood  him,  and  read  in  his 
heart  as  in  an  open  book  ;  but  yet  at  that  time  he  acted  with 
both  prudence  and  circumspection.  My  determination  is 
made ! " 

The  cabriolet  was  brought  up  ;  they  mounted  and  drove 
away.  In  the  long  avenues  of  the  Vorstadt  they  met  many 
people  driving  and  on  horseback.  The  young  gentlemen  sa- 
luted Josephine ;  several  ladies  cast  smiling  looks  at  Naomi. 
The  road  ascended  now  to  the  mountain,  from  whence  the 
fine  view  is  enjoyed  over  the  beautiful  and  blooming  valley  of 
the  Danube. 

"Just  look  !  "  said  Josephine,  "how  gloriously  the  many  ave- 
nues between  the  city  and  the  suburbs  look  !  The  tower  of 
St.  Stephen's  Church  rises  up  boldly  above  all  other  buildings  ; 
and  do  you  not  see  the  Danube,  with  the  lovely  green  islands  ? 
Those  blue  mountains  lie  in  Hungary.  It  is  this  view  which 
always  presents  itself  before  my  eyes  when  I  hear  the  song, 
'  Yet  once  more  the  lovely  country ! '  Certainly,  Austria  is 
much  more  beautiful  than  Denmark  !  " 

"  Each  country  resembles  the  other  !  "  said  Naomi.  "  We 
have  in  Jutland  mountains  quite  as  lofty  as  these,  and  the 
Lesser  Belt  and  the  Sound  present  a  far  more  magnificent  view 
than  the  Danube.  I  know  only  one  advantage  which  Vienna 
has  over  Copenhagen,  and  that  is  its  milder  air  and  its  prox- 
imity to  Italy." 

"  The  Finlanders  long  after  their  marches,  the  Esquimaux 
after  their  snow  !  "  replied  Josephine,  laughing. 

"  I  do  not  long  after  Denmark,  neither  will  I  ever  return 
there,"  said  Naomi ;  "  but  neither  will  I  remain  here.  I  am 
a  free  woman,  no  Austrian,  and  they  will  not  prevent  my  leav- 
ing the  country." 

"But  Ladislaf  would  prevent  it,"  returned  Josephine,— 
"  would  endeavor  to  prevent  it,  because  thereby  he  could  tor- 
ment you  whenever  he  was  in  the  humor  for  it." 

They  were  here  interrupted  in  their  conversation  by  the 
grave-digger  of  the  little  place,  who  invited  them  in  to  take  a 
view  of  the  corpses,  which  were  more  than  a  hundred  yean 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

old,  and  which  yet  stand  unconsumed  in  the  burial-vaults  of 
the  church,  and  look  now  as  if  they  had  only  been  yesterday 
placed  there. 

"  We  prefer  seeing  living  people,"  said  Josephine. 

But  there  were  right  beautiful  curiosities  there,  the  old  man 
assured  them.  It  was  scarcely  an  hour  before,  he  said,  that  a 
Polish  gentleman  had  gone  through,  and  he  had  found  the 
things  so  interesting  that  he  had  noted  down  all  in  his  journal. 
Yet  notwithstanding  this  the  gentleman  in  so  doing  had  for- 
gotten his  journal ;  but  it  must  be  that  very  day  taken  to  the 
police,  and  the  gentlemen  there  could  give  certain  intelligence 
about  all  travellers,  so  that  he  hoped  before  evening  that  the 
book  would  be  restored  into  the  hand  of  the  Polack. 

That  which  was  written  was  in  Danish.  Naomi  seemed  tc 
know  the  hand ;  she  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  book  in- 
quisitively, and  read  here  and  there  in  it.  The  remarks  had 
not  all  been  written  for  everybody's  reading. 

"The  strange  gentleman  must  be  from  Denmark,"  said 
Naomi. 

"  From  the  King  of  Denmark  ?  "  asked  the  old  man  in  as- 
tonishment. "  I  saw  him  here  at  the  time  of  the  congress ; 
he  had  white  hair,  and  was  as  kind  and  polite  as  our  good 
Emperor  Franz.  Whenever  I  go  by  the  Stockameise  I  always 
must  look  at  King  Frederick  the  Dane." 1  The  old  man  be- 
came more  and  more  eloquent,  yet  Naomi  did  not  listen  to 
him,  but  read  full  of  curiosity  in  the  journal,  and  smiled  and 
blushed  in  so  doing. 

"  Was  the  stranger  here  an  hour  ago  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  old  grave-digger,  "  but  I  do  not  know 
in  what  direction  he  is  gone,  yet  I  fancy  toward  the  city." 

"  Show  us  your  church  !  "  said  Naomi,  and  they  now  went 
in  with  the  old  man.  But  Naomi  inquired  much  more  fre- 
quently about  the  foreign  traveller  than  about  the  objects  and 
curiosities  which  were  shown  to  her:  the  journal  seemed  to 
lie  much  more  upon  her  heart  than  the  historical  intelligence 
which  the  old  man  communicated  to  her  about  the  well-pre- 
served corpses. 

1  As  already  remarked,  every  shop  in  Vienna  has  a  picture  as  a  sign,  and 
iirectly  opposite  the  celebrated  Stockameise  there  stands  a  shop  with  tht 
»ign  of  Frederick  VI.,  king  of  Denmark.  —  Author's  Note. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  237 

The  two  were  again  seated  in  their  cabriolet;  the  fiery  Or- 
lando carried  his  head  aloft,  and  trotted  rapidly  with  them 
toward  the  convent,  the  lofty  cupola  of  which,  with  its  imperial 
crown,  showed  itself  magnificently  in  the  blue  air 

They  entered  the  vaulted  convent-hall.  There  stood  a 
stranger.  Naomi  trembled  ;  he,  of  all  persons  in  the  world, 
she  would  not  have  met.  Yes,  he  it  was  whose  presence  the 
journal  had  announced  ;  she  was  not  under  a  mistake  ;  it  was 
the  Count,  —  he  whom  she  called  her  father. 

He  bowed,  and  spoke  a  few  passing  words  to  Josephine  ; 
Naomi  went  past  him  without  his  getting  sight  of  her. 

"  There  is  not  so  much  pomp  and  affluence  here  as  in 
K.loster-M61k,"  said  Josephine,  "  but  yet  I  love  this  old  build- 
ing that  is  so  dear  to  me  from  my  childhood.  How  often  have 
I  run  from  here  to  Castle  Leopold !  From  above  there,  they 
say,  the  Duchess's  veil  flew  down  and  got  caught  in  a  thorn- 
bush,  which  then  stood  where  now  the  Kloster  is  built." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  in  a  state  of  mind  for  your  stories,"  said 
Naomi,  and  her  voice  trembled  ;  "  come,  make  haste,  for  we 
cannot  stay  here  !  The  foreign  gentleman  is  a  relation  of 
mine." 

She  drew  Josephine  to  the  cabriolet,  which  waited  outside 
for  them.  They  were  just  about  to  mount  as  the  Count  came 
out  of  the  church. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  "  but  is  not  this  convent  cele- 
orated  for  its  wine-cellars  ?  There  should  be  a  tun  here 
which  belongs  to  the  curiosities  of  the  country." 

"  I  have  heard  of  it,  "  said  Josephine,  "  but  I  have  never 
seen  it" 

"  Here  is  the  tun,  your  honor,"  cried  the  cooper  close  be- 
hind them,  who,  together  with  one  of  his  journeymen,  was 
busied  in  hooping  barrels. 

"  Have  you  not  a  desire  to  see  the  celebrated  tun  ? "  asked 
the  Count. 

Josephine,  embarrassed,  looked  at  Naomi,  who  was  mmedi- 
ately  collected.  She  bowed  to  the  Count,  and  entered  with 
rosephine  the  work-place.  This  was  a  large  vault  of  brick- 
work in  which  lay  round  about  great  and  small  wine-barrels, 
the  king  of  which,  however,  was  the  well-known  tun,  which 


238  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

holds  a  thousand  and  one  gallons.  By  means  of  a  ladder  one 
might  get  to  the  top  of  this.  The  bung-hole  is  so  great  that 
one  can  comfortably  descend  into  the  tun  through  it,  and  the 
interior  space  is  large  enough  for  a  dance. 

"  The  tun  has  just  lately  been  cleaned  out,"  said  the  cooper, 
"  and  the  cellar-master  has  had  this  beautiful  verse  set  upon 
it  here."  The  Count  read, — 

"  A  hundred  and  thirty  years  were  told 
By  me  within  this  cellar  cold  ; 
Then  thousands  on  my  back  were  pressing, 
Yet  that  to  me  was  not  distressing." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  cooper,  "  thousands  have  danced  upon  his 
back  who  now  lie  in  the  grave.  But  the  tun  is  still  strong  and 
polished,  it  will  know  our  children's  children  as  great-grand- 
mothers and  great-grandfathers  !  Certainly  that  it  will !  But 
you  must  descend  into  it,  or  else  you  cannot  rightly  become 
acquainted  with  it." 

Naomi  sprang  up  the  ladder  and  descended  into  the  tun  ; 
the  Count  followed  her,  but  his  demeanor  expressed  aston- 
ishment, for  the  way  and  manner  in  which  Naomi  descended 
betrayed  her  sex.  Josephine  peeped  only  through  the  open- 
ing into  the  tun  ;  it  seemed  to  her  to  be  a  large  room.1  Na- 
omi danced  around  the  Count,  whilst  her  thoughts  wandered 
over  mountain  and  valley. 

Before  long  she  was  again  sitting  beside  Josephine  in  the 
cabriolet  and  driving  away. 

"  Do  you  know  these  two  ? "  asked  the  Count  of  the 
cooper ;  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"  They  were  riders  from  the  Prater,"  said  the  journeyman  : 
"  it  was  Mamsell  Josephine  and  the  little  Jockey.  They 
understand  riding  and  doing  tricks.  The  jockey  is  not  good 
for  much  in  that  way." 

The  light  cabriolet  took  the  road  along  the  Danube. 

**  I  must  and  will  go  hence  !  "  said  Naomi.  "  You  have 
indeed  relations  in  Munich,  Josephine  ;  give  me  a  letter  to 
them !  I  have  yet  several  things  of  value ;  for  eight  days  I 

1  The  length  of  this  gigantic  tun  is  14  feet  4  inches,  *he  diameter  12  feet 
—  Author's  Note. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  239 

have  no   need   to  beg,  and  a  week   can  bring  about  a  great 
deal." 

Whole  folios  have  been  written  about  love,  every  degree  of 
it  has  been  run  through  and  sung  about ;  very  little,  however, 
has  been  said  about  the  hatred  in  love,  and  yet  this  is  just  as 
rich  in  shades,  just  as  strong  as  love  itself.  The  hatred  of 
love  is  a  devilish  delight,  but  yet  it  is  a  delight  to  hate 
burningly,  to  hate  him  who  maliciously  trampled  upon  our  best 
joy,  our  most  innocent  pleasure  !  All  men  know  the  feeling 
of  hatred  —  it  is  an  animalcule  which  lives  in  the  blood  of 
men. 

Naomi  was  wounded  ;  and  as  the  sylphide  loses  its  Psyche- 
wings  and  dies  with  the  first  sensual  embrace,  so  with  her  had 
the  first  harsh  treatment  killed  love.  As  the  wine  in  the  cup 
of  Tantalus  vanished  when  a  drop  of  it  was  shed,  so  was  it 
with  Naomi's  love. 

"  I  thought  to  have  exalted  myself  so  much  above  others," 
pondered  she,.,"  and  I  have  humbled  myself  to  the  son  of  a 
gypsy,  whose  nobility  alone  consists  in  the  deceitful  natural 
play  of  their  bodies.  Now  his  form  disgusts  me  like  the  skin 
of  the  snake." 

"  You  are  more  of  a  man  than  a  woman,"  said  Josephine. 

"  In  case  of  need  I  could  help  myself  through  the  world," 
replied  Naomi.  "  Ladislaf  thinks,  probably,  that  I  am  like  the 
rest  of  women,  who  have  their  hearts  for  three  or  four  days 
full  of  gall,  but  then  become  weak  and  appeasable.  I  am  no 
longer  so  !  With  us  people  say,  '  One  misfortune  does  not  come 
alone  ! '  My  father  has  this  day  met  me  ;  he  was  the  gentle- 
man with  whom  we  conversed  in  Kloster-Neuburg.  If  he 
should  have  recognized  me?  I  have  always  thought  the 
prodigal  son  despicable,  not  because  he  ate  with  the  swine,  but 
because  he  again  turned  back.  He  must  have  known  his 
father  to  be  a  weak  man.  To  accept  of  marks  of  kindness 
and  benefits  may  be  called  passports  to  make  up  for  mortifi- 
cations endured.  Will  the  world  be  ever  in  a  condition  to 
show  one  benefactor  who  never  afterward  wounded  the  feelings 
or  overlooked  the  receiver  of  his  benefits  ?  I  will  hence  I 
Lad'.slaf  is  to  me  as  the  post-boy  who  has  driven  me  a 
station :  my  weakness  was  a  dream,  —  a  foolish  dream  in  the 
diligence  ! " 


240 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


The  police  in  Vienna  are  able  to  give  intelligence  of  the 
departure  of  every  stranger,  the  old  grave-digger  in  Josephs- 
dorf  said ;  and  for  that  reason  he  had  sent  to  them  the  forgotten 
pocket-book :  before  evening  it  was  in  the  hands  of  its  owner. 
"  The  police  know  about  everybody,"  the  old  man  had  said  ; 
and  therefore  they  were  aware  likewise  this  morning  that  there 
was  a  young  man  in  the  horse-rider's  company  in  the  Prater 
who  was  called  Christian,  who  was  of  a  fine,  almost  femininely 
delicate  figure,  and  was  commonly  called  the  little  Jockey  ; 
the  police  said  not  a  word  about  his  possibly  being  a  lady  in 
disguise. 

The  Count  wished  to  be  present  at  the  performance  this 
evening.  It  began.  Josephine  floated  away  on  the  back  of 
her  horse  with  waving  banners  ;  Bajazzo  struck  the  wheel  with 
his  grandmother  on  his  back ;  Ladislaf  appeared  this  evening 
as  a  Greek,  in  dark  red  satin.  The  tall  cap  accorded  ex- 
cellently with  his  proud  countenance ;  the  coal-black  eyes 
sparkled  beneath  the  strong  eyebrows ;  and  again  around  that 
mouth  of  antique  beauty  showed  itself  the  disdainful  smile 
which  was  peculiar  to  him.  Never  did  a  handsomer  gladiator 
enter  the  arena.  The  most  stormy  applause  welcomed  him 
on  all  sides  ;  but  that  moved  him  not,  for  he  was  just  as  much 
accustomed  to  it  as  to  the  music  to  which  he  sprang  round  the 
course.  Within,  his  mind  brooded  the  poison  which  the  smile 
of  his  lips  betrayed.  He  knew  that  Naomi,  whom  he  had 
seen  at  the  commencement  of  the  performance,  would  set  off 
during  it ;  he  had  been  informed  of  it ;  he  knew  that  she  had 
obtained  a  passport  which  enabled  her  to  travel  to  Munich. 
She  was  the  first  woman  who  had  dared  to  defy  him.  This 
must  be  revenged  ;  he  would  torment  her ;  and  that  was  easy 
to  do.  Without  doubt  she  travelled  at  this  very  moment  extra- 
post,  or  rode  on  her  way  to  Linz  ;  but  the  diligence  went  this 
evening  the  very  same  way,  and  at  this  moment  a  place  for 
him  was  taken  in  it.  He  would  overtake  her  —  meet  with  her 
he  must ;  and  if  he  doubted  as  to  his  success  in  inducing  her 
to  return  with  him,  yet  it  was  in  his  power  in  this  meeting 
with  her  to  distress  her  in  the  most  acute  manner,  and  to  place 
her  in  a  most  unpleasant  situation.  She  was  a  lady,  and  hei 
passport  was  drawn  in  the  name  of  a  man  ;  that  was  sufficien4 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

to  shame  her.  In  this  conviction  he  smiled  still  more  sneer- 
ingly  than  common,  and  took  the  boldest  leaps  in  the  air  upon 
his  flying  horse,  who  knew  his  rider  so  well,  and  people  ap- 
plauded still  more  enthusiastically  than  ever. 

The  Count  sat  close  by  the  lists ;  he  forgot  for  some  mo- 
ments her  for  whom  his  eye  had  in  vain  sought,  as  he  joined 
in  the  unanimous  plaudits  when  Ladislaf  left  the  circus.  At 
the  close  of  the  performance,  Ladislaf  drove  with  a  groom  in 
the  little  cabriolet  to  the  city. 

In  the  post-court  stood  the  diligence  ready  to  start ;  the 
passengers  took  their  places.  One  was  going  to  Kloster 
Neuburg,  a  second  to  Salzburg,  a  third  to  Paris,  and  so  on. 
In  the  furthest  backseat  sat  a  young  man  with  a  handkerchief 
tied  over  his  head,  and  his  cap  drawn  over  his  ears ;  he  was 
suffering  from  toothache,  and  was  on  his  way  to  Munich. 
Opposite  to  him  was  the  place  assigned  to  Ladislaf.  Each 
one  now  arranged  his  legs  with  his  opposite  neighbor,  so  as  to 
sit  comfortably.  Ladislaf  and  Naomi  were  thus  placed  to- 
gether, either  by  fate  or  by  chance.  She  recognized  him,  but 
would  not  trust  her  eyes  until  he  spoke  ;  then  she  was  con- 
vinced of  his  presence. 

She  had  thought  it  best  to  travel  with  the  diligence,  be- 
cause it  went  through  without  any  stay.  That  now  Ladislaf 
was  here  among  the  passengers  prophesied  no  good,  for  he 
was  here  on  her  account :  what  would  be  the  end  of  it  ? 

The  postilion  blew  his  horn,  the  whip  cracked,  leave-takings 
were  heard,  and  the  carriage  rolled  across  the  Stephen's  Platz, 
and  through  the  lighted  streets.  The  performance  was  just 
at  an  end  in  the  Burg  theatre  ;  the  spectators  streamed  along 
the  street,  and  all  the  passengers  looked  out  from  the  carriage 
to  see  if  they  could  recognize  an  acquaintance.  Naomi  alone 
laid  her  head  more  backward,  and  turned  her  face  to  one  side, 
that  it  might  not  be  seen  by  the  light  of  the  lamps.  They 
were  soon  through  the  green  avenue,  and  in  the  suburb  of 
Maria-hilf.  All  chatted  and  endeavored  to  pass  on  the  time 
pleasantly;  Naomi  alone  pretended  that  she  already  slept, 
although  the  consciousness  of  not  one  of  the  travellers  was 
more  alert  than  hers.  She  thought  over  her  condition,  and 
considered  upon  what  was  the  most  advisable  for  her  to  ,lo» 
16 


242  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

She  might  pass  the  night  very  well  in  the  carriage  —  there 
would  be  no  occasion  for  her  to  get  out ;  but  when  day 
dawned,  when  they  had  to  take  breakfast  at  St.  Polten,  what 
then  ?  Ladislaf  spoke  to  her,  but  she  made  no  answer ;  she 
trembled  in  every  limb,  and  that  he  certainly  would  observe, 
for  their  knees  almost  touched  each  other. 

They  had  already  travelled  for  an  hour,  and  were  now  in 
the  little  village  of  Hiitteldorf,  which,  like  Hitzing,  is  a  sum- 
mer residence  of  the  Viennese.  The  latter,  however,  lies 
nearer  to  Vienna,  and  is  at  the  same  time  a  summer  sojourn 
for  the  court,  and  has  much  noise,  dust,  and  bustle.  Hiittel- 
dorf, on  the  contrary,  is  more  rural,  and  possesses  a  more 
open  view  over  the  green  low  hills,  so  that  the  country  villas 
lying  here  have  a  trully  idyllian  site. 

The  diligence  drew  up  before  the  inn.  The  gentlemen  got 
out,  Naomi  followed  their  example,  but  she  was  determined 
not  again  to  return.  She  quickly  turned  into  the  first  little 
street,  which  led  into  a  meadow,  and  ran  on  with  all  her 
might.  At  the  end  of  this  lay,  on  the  right,  a  small  country- 
house.  Naomi  concealed  herself  in  the  ditch  which  inclosed 
the  garden  ;  her  heart  beat,  she  listened  whether  any  one  was 
following  her. 

The  post-horn  sounded ;  she  heard  the  diligence  again 
rolling  on,  and  said  in  her  inmost  heart  with  Riguebourg,  but 
with  different  feeling, ."  Now  he  is  gone  !  " 

At  that  very  moment  loud  laughter  resounded  in  the  gar- 
den ;  ladies  and  gentlemen  came  out  of  the  little  gate  and 
went  across  the  meadow.  They  were  a  merry  company,  and 
every  name  which  she  heard  was  well  known  to  her.  Mrs. 
Von  Weissenthurn,  the  intellectual  poetess,  and  Costenoble, 
the  actor,  were  among  them. 

"You  will  read  your  Sappho  to  me  to-morrow,  will  you  not, 
Grillparzer  ? "  said  the  lady ;  and  all  talked  merrily  together. 

"  Good-night !  good-night !  sleep  well !  "  resounded  from 
the  other  end  of  the  lane.  "  Good-night !  good-night !  "  and 
one  of  the  gentlemen  turned  back  over  the  meadow.  Prob- 
ably this  was  the  host,  who  had  so  far  accompanied  his  guests  • 
he  had  a  dog  with  him,  which  suddenly  sprang  into  the  ditch 
where  Naomi  sat,  pointed  his  ears,  and  then  began  loudly  to 
bark.  The  gentleman  approached  the  spot. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I  243 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

Naomi  rose. 

"  That  is  a  bad  resting-place  for  the  night,"  said  he ;  "  the 
dew  falls ;  you  were  not  thinking  of  passing  the  night  there  ? ' 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Naomi,  "  with  whom  have  I  the  honor 
of  speaking ! " 

The  gentleman  laughed.  "  I  am  Castelli,"  replied  he  ;  "  and 
you,  my  friend  ? " 

"  Castelli !  "  repeated  Naomi ;  "  the  poet  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  replied  he. 

"  I  have  known  you  for  years,  "  said  Naomi ;  "  your  poems 
have  caused  me  many  happy  hours.  As  a  little  child  I  learned 
your  '  Praise  of  the  Little  Ones.'  You  occupied  me  a  long 
way  from  here,  and  then  it  never  occurred  to  me  that  we 
should  meet,  and  meet  thus." 

"  You  are  not  a  German,"  said  the  Poet ;  "  and,  if  I  may 
judge  from  your  soft  accent,  I  should  suppose  you  to  be  a 
Dane." 

"  I  am  so,"  returned  Naomi. 

"  Did  not  I  directly  think  so  ? "  said  the  gentleman ;  "  there 
was  here  this  evening  a  countryman  of  yours,  a  young  doctor." 

"  I  will  entirely  confide  in  you,"  said  Naomi,  "  for  it  has  al- 
ways appeared  to  me  that  a  poet  must  have  a  warmer,  a  no- 
bler, and  a  better  heart  than  ordinary  people." 

"  I  cannot  quite  assent  to  that,"  returned  the  gentleman  ; 
"  most  poets  have  only  this  advantage  above  other  men,  that 
they  can  apply  their  own  experience  to  others,  and  that  they 
express  what  they  feel  and  think."  With  these  words  he 
opened  the  gate,  and  they  entered  the  little  flower-garden. 

"  Chance  has  conducted  me  to  you,"  now  said  Naomi  j 
"  you  must  counsel  me,  you  must  help  me."  And  she  then  re- 
lated to  him  that  she  was  a  lady,  an'd  a  Dane ;  that  she  had 
left  a  tranquil,  care-free  life  at  home,  in  order  to  be  deceived 
in  all,  even  the  very  least  of  her  hopes.  She  told  him  all 
her  adversities,  and  what  had  happened  to  her  until  this  very 
evening. 

The  good-natured,  excellent  man  felt  himself,  as  any  one 
elsa  would  have  done  under  similar  circumstances,  somewhat 
embarrassed  by  this  confidence  of  poor  Naomi ;  for  what  actu- 


244 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


ally  could  he  think  of  such  a  girl !  The  Danish  ambassador 
was  certainly  the  proper  person  to  whom  she  ought  to  apply, 
he  thought,  But  now  it  was  so  late  at  night ;  she  was  so 
handsome ;  she  was  so  forlorn,  and  her  lips  breathed  elo- 
quence. The  Poet  sent  for  his  housekeeper,  and  Naomi  was 
now  led  into  the  little  guest-chamber,  which  looked  over  the 
mountains. 

In  the  still  night  she  opened  her  window.  The  waning 
moon  stood  low  in  the  heavens  ;  before  her  horn  wholly  dis- 
appeared an  important  step  must  be  taken  on  her  path  of  fate. 
Dreamily  she  lost  herself  in  thought,  whilst  her  eye  was  di- 
rected to  the  starry  host :  but  her  thoughts  were  fertile  ;  she 
laid  a  plan  for  the  following  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

*'  Farewell  —  thou  windest  thine  arm  about  mine  ? 
Thou  boldest  me  fast  —  I  shall  not  go  ?  "  —  CASTELLI. 

"  Know'st  thou  the  land  where  the  lemons  are  blooming  ? 
Thither  "!....  —  GOETHE. 

THE  next  morning,  as  Naomi  made  her  appearance  at 
the  tea-table,  the  Poet  extended  to  her  kindly  his  hand  , 
his  dog  sprang  toward  her,  and  she  caressed  the  animal.  Its 
barking  had  been  the  introduction  to  her  acquaintance  with 
the  Poet. 

"  It  is  a  faithful  animal,  quite  devoted  to  me !  "  said  the 
good  host ;  "  it  would  grieve  me  if  it  were  to  die  before  I  did." 

At  this  moment  a  cabriolet  rolled  hither  along  the  little 
street,  and  drew  up  at  the  entrance  to  the  garden.  They  were 
morning  visitors.  It  was  the  young  physician,  Naomi's  coun- 
tryman, of  whom  Castelli  had  spoken  ;  another  foreigner  ac- 
companied him,  a  Dane  likewise,  who  wished  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  beloved  Poet.  It  was  the  Count,  whom  Na- 
omi called  father. 

The  Doctor  was  possessed  of  that  which  is  peculiar  to  many 
Danes  abroad  —  great  susceptibility  of  all  that  is  new,  to- 
gether with  an  easily  excited  love  for  father-land,  which  soon 
becomes  home-sickness.  In  an  especial  manner  was  he  given 
to  drawing  comparisons,  and  where  is  there  more  opportunity 
for  so  doing  than  in  Vienna !  The  present  inhabitants  have 
so  many  things  in  common  with  the  Copenhageners,  as  well  in 
advantages  as  in  trifles,  that  the  resemblance  strikes  the  eyes 
of  both,  only  the  Viennese  are  a  gayer  people  than  those  of 
the  northern  capital.  The  Prater  with  its  swings,  and  all  its 
merry  exhibitions,  is  our  park  ;  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn  is 
iltogether  our  Friedrichsberg ;  the  Stephen's  Church  with  its 
'ofty  lower,  is,  to  be  sure,  something  quite  peculiar  to  the  Im- 


246 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


perial  city  :  but  the  Doctor  recollected  St.  Saviour's  Church, 
the  tower  of  which  is  also  a  rarity  —  a  tower  around  which  a 
spiral  staircase  winds,  which  is  provided  with  a  gilded  balus- 
trade, and  which  conducts  him  who  ascends  up  to  the  great 
ball,  upon  which  is  throned  the  copper-man  with  the  waving 
banner.  "  If  one  had  from  St.  Stephen's  tower  the  view  of 
the  Hungarian  mountains,"  said  the  young  Doctor,  "  it  would 
not  be  less  imposing  than  that  from  St.  Saviour's,  which  looks 
down  over  the  whole  Sound  and  the  opposite  coast  of  Swe- 
den." 

Of  all  foreign  cities,  he  said,  Vienna  pleased  him  the  best, 
for  there  it  was  so  pleasant  to  live.  The  families  of  Jager  and 
Sonnenleitner 1  carried  him  quite  back  again  into  Danish  do- 
mestic life;  but  how  very  frequently  were  not  melancholy 
feelings  excited  in  his  soul,  also,  from  this  very  cause !  He 
was  really  such  a  long  way  removed  from  his  young  wife  and 
his  dear  little  daughter !  It  not  unfrequently  happened  that 
tears  came  into  his  eyes  when,  in  the  streets  of  Vienna,  he 
met  little  girls  of  the  same  age  as  his  daughter.  He  said  that 
had  happened  to  him  that  very  morning  as  they  drew  up  at 
the  Baumhofe,  where  a  young  girl  and  her  little  sister  were 
tending  a  goat  which  grazed  there,  and  was  milked  whenever 
a  passer-by  desired  to  have  a  draught  of  goat's  milk.  The 
Count  talked  jestingly  about  the  sentimentality  of  the  young 
man,  as  he  called  it. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  have  children,"  said  the 
Doctor ;  "  if  you  had  only  such  a  daughter  as  I  have,  you 
would  be  just  like  me.  A  new  world  full  of  pleasure  would 
open  to  you.  There  is  a  blessedness  in  the  smiles  of  a  child  1 
you  should  only  see  how  it  stretched  out  its  little  hands  to 
me !  you  should  only  hear  its  first  shout  of  delight  I  O,  I 
would  wish  you  a  daughter  like  mine !  " 

The  Count  riveted  his  eyes  on  Naomi,  and  then  said  gravely, 
and  in  a  deep  tone  of  voice,  "  I  had  once  a  daughter,  but  she 
is  dead!" 

He  was  silent,  and  the  young  Physician  was  somewhat  em- 
barrassed ;  it  had  not  been  his  intention  to  wound  the  Count. 

1  In  these  two  families  the  Danes  have  always  met  with  the  most 
friendly  reception.  —  Author's  Note. 


OKI.Y  A  FIDDLER!  247 

The  conversation  then  turned  to  the  Count's  short  stay  in 
Vienna,  and  his  projected  journey  into  Italy,  whence  he  would 
return  to  his  native  country  by  way  of  France. 

In  going  away,  the  Poet  accompanied  his  guests  through 
the  garden ;  Naomi  remained  behind.  Nothing  could  be 
more  natural  than  that  he  should  confide  to  her  country-peo- 
ple that  which  he  had  heard,  and  how  he  himself  had  got 
mixed  up  in  the  adventure.  The  Doctor  laughed ;  but  the 
Count  became  thoughtful  and  grave. 

They  went  further  across  the  meadow  and  through  the 
green  valley,  which  extended  to  the  hills.  A  small  footpath 
wound  in  agreeable  mazes  through  the  garden. 

Along  this  footpath,  half  an  hour  afterward,  might  be  seen 
the  Count  and  Naomi  walking  together  ;  their  conversation 
was  carried  on  in  their  native  tongue.  The  sparrows  twittered 
merrily  the  while,  the  flowers  sent  forth  odors  as  sweetly  as  ;  i 
the  whole  of  nature  breathed  pure  peace  and  joy,  and  the 
snails  bathed  themselves  in  the  warm  sunshine. 

"Naomi,"  said  the  Count,  "how  could  you  so  far  forget 
yourself  as  to  bring  shame  upon  me,  and  to  disgrace  yourself 
in  the  worst  manner  ? " 

"  My  birth  was  the  consecration  thereto,"  replied  she.  "  I 
am  to  blame  ;  but  many  things  may  speak  in  my  extenuation, 
if  such  were  needful.  My  existence  is  a  youthful  sin,  and  as 
is  the  seed  so  is  the  fruit." 

"  What  will  be  your  further  fate  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  That  of  a  thousand  others,"  she  answered ;  "  an  exist- 
ence that  is  not  worth  life.  But  I  have  lived,  even  if  it  were 
only  for  a  few  days.  I,  however,  became  free  and  independ- 
ent when  I  was  wronged  in  the  crudest  manner,  and,  for  the 
first  time,  in  this  moment  your  glance  has  a  power  over  me 
which  binds  me.  The  world  does  not  regard  me  as  your 
daughter,  and  you,  yourself,  do  not  really  believe  it.  I  am 
thus  only  a  stranger  to  whom  you  have  shown  kindness,  and 
from  whom  you  may  desire  obedience.  I  have  not  shown  it, 
and  you  cast  me  off.  Our  ways  part.  Every  false  step,  every 
sin,  is  succeeded  by  its  own  punishment ;  let  me  bear  mine  1 
One  b^nefi.1:  only  I  beseech  of  you  yet  to  add  to  the  formef 
»nes,  and  this  is,  that  you  do  not  know  me." 


248  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

They  remained  standing  under  a  tree  ;  the  voice  of  th« 
Doctor  called  them  back. 

"  I  do  not  trouble  myself  about  the  opinion  of  the  world/ 
continued  she,  "  but  your  opinion  is  everything  to  me,  and 
before  you  I  would  desire  to  stand  as  before  my  own  con- 
science." 

"  They  are  coming ! "  said  the  Count,  as  the  Poet  and  the 
Doctor  approached  them. 

"  We  are  not  agreed,"  said  Naomi,  smiling :  "  the  Count 
calls  this  pale  little  flower  a  violet ;  but  I  say  that  it  is  only  a 
wild  little  step-mother."  *  With  this  she  pointed  to  a  flower 
of  this  kind,  which  grew  on  the  path. 

"  When  cultivated  in  gardens  they  attain  to  extraordinary 
beauty,"  said  Castelli ;  "  but  I  cannot  understand  why  people 
have  given  them  this  name,  when  they  have  not  at  all  been 
step-motherly  treated." 

"  They  explain  why  they  are  so  called,"  replied  Naomi,  and 
stooped  down  to  gather  one  of  the  flowers.  "  Only  see  here 
the  five  petals  !  two  of  these  are  set  upon  one  little  seat ;  they 
are  the  two  which  are  set  furthest  behind  —  the  step-children  ; 
these,  one  on  each  side,  are  the  mother's  own  children  —  each 
one  sits  upon  its  own  chair,  and  this  great  petal  above  is  the 
step-mother  herself — she  has  indeed  two  chairs  to  sit  upon." 

"  That  is,  in  truth,  an  ingenious  explanation,"  said  the  Poet, 
smiling,  "  which  I  have  never  before  heard." 

"  Thus  it  is  said  with  us  in  Denmark,"  returned  the  Phy- 
sician. "  But  how  strange  it  is  that  one  always  hears  of  bad 
step-mothers,  but  never  of  wicked  step-fathers  !  " 

"  Their  fault  is,  perhaps,  over-indulgence,"  said  the  Count. 

Whether  we  should  accuse  them  of  the  same  thing  will  de- 
pend upon  our  own  views  of  life ;  in  the  mean  time  we  trans- 
port ourselves  from  the  Poet's  company  to  the  mountains  of 
the  Tyrol  —  there  where  the  young  fellows,  with  flowers  in  their 
hats,  jodelled  in  the  fresh  morning  air,  and  sang  of  their 
Andreas  Hofer,  as  the  Swiss  do  of  their  William  Tell  and 
Winkelried. 

Five  days  are  not  yet  passed  since  we  saw  the  meeting  of 
the  Count  and  Naomi,  and  heard  their  conversation  abou, 

1  Pansy. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 


249 


bad  step- mothers  and  good  step- fathers  ;  and  already  icality 
shows  us  a  forgiving  step-father. 

The  light  travelling-carriage  rolled  away  along  the  high- 
road ;  foot-passengers,  people  who  drove  and  who  rode,  met 
them  for  the  first  and  for  the  last  time  in  their  lives,  and  yet 
the  Count  closed  his  eyes  for  sleep.  Beside  him  sat  a  young 
lady  in  female  travelling  costume ;  the  map  of  Italy  lay  open 
on  her  knee,  and  "  Mary  Ann  Stark,  "  the  well-known  guide  for 
travellers  in  Italy,  lay  at  her  side.  Deep  below  the  road 
foamed  the  turbulent  river,  and  the  clouds  hung  like  fleeces 
upon  the  lofty  peaks.  The  lady  cast  a  glance  upon  the  wild 
country,  and  we  recognize  Naomi.  Her  thoughts  were  dream- 
ing of  the  peninsula,  and  therefore  she  did  not  enjoy  the 
present ;  they  flew  to  the  true  country  of  the  Fata  Morgana, 
toward  Italy's  sacred  halls  of  art.  The  Alps  are  their  portals , 
the  eagle  a  sparrow,  which  builds  its  nest  in  their  cornice ; 
the  pine-trees  lift  up  their  lofty  columns  with  their  evergreen 
capitals.  Here  is  the  home  of  music ;  here  blooms  the  rose 
in  the  Alpine  snow.  The  earth  on  which  thy  foot  treads  is 
drunken  with  the  blood  of  her  noblest,  is  sanctified  by  the 
marble  with  which  the  temples  of  antiquity  are  reared.  Into 
the  dead  stone  is  life  breathed  ;  it  becomes  an  image  which  rav- 
ishes thy  soul.  The  sea  is  beautifully  blue  as  the  petal  of  the 
corn-flower,  transparent  as  the  drops  of  the  fountain.  Houris, 
lovely  as  those  from  the  paradise  of  Mahomet,  smile  on  thee, 
land  of  music  and  of  coloring  —  Italia  ! 

"Thither!"  sang  the  poet  of  Mignon,  and  a  thousand 
hearts  repeat,  as  a  lamenting  echo,  the  words  of  painfully 
sweet  longing,  which  will  never  be  realized. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

M  Nature  was  not  the  poor  man's  friend ; 

Hard-hearted  nurse  was  she  : 
Your  graciousness  can  that  amend, 

And  Nature  shall  ashamed  be.  " 

KARL  BAGGER. 

There  is  among  the  treasures  of  French  literature  a  spir 
ited  treatise  on  garrets,  in  which  the  author  says,  that  as 
in  mankind  the  understanding  and  mind  have  their  seat  in  the 
uppermost  part  of  the  human  body,  so  is  also  the  case  among 
the  authors  and  artists  of  Paris  ;  they  live  in  garrets.  Scribe 
has  written  a  vaudeville  on  the  Parisian  artist-life,  and  has 
given  to  it  the  title  La  Mansarde  des  Artistes.  But  in  all  great 
cities,  as  well  as  in  Paris,  it  is  the  lot  of  poor  artists  to  be 
placed  up  aloft  with  respect  to  their  dwellings. 

Thus  was  Christian  placed  in  Copenhagen  ;  up  six  pair  of 
stairs  dwelt  he  in  a  little  back  garret,  with  the  widow  who  had 
once  provided  a  lodging  for  him,  Lucie,  and  her  mother, 
during  the  short  time  they  spent  in  Copenhagen.  His  view 
extended  over  chimneys  and  roofs  to  the  high  tower  upon 
which  the  night-watchman  took  his  stand.  If  the  rich  people 
who  dwelt  in  the  five  srories  below  him  had  the  whole  lively 
street  before  them,  h*.  could,  up  there,  look  over  the  whole 
blue  vault  of  heaven  in  which  the  stars,  on  clear  evenings 
were  kindled. 

As  regarded  his  chamber,  it  was  much  smaller  than  the  one 
which  he  had  inhabited  at  Mr.  Knepus's  ;  it  was,  as  it  weie. 
in  the  shape  of  a  triangle,  for  from  the  door  by  which  one 
entered  it  ran  obliquely  toward  both  sides,  with  one  excep- 
tion —  that  of  the  projecting  window.  The  bed  was  a  sort 
of  alcove ;  directly  opposite,  in  the  roof,  was  set  a  pane  of 
glass,  through  which  in  the  night  he  could  contemplate  the 
moon  and  stars. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


251 


With  a  thankful  heart  he  praised  the  dear  God  for  his  rare 
fortune  :  he  had  four  engagements,  and  should  receive  about 
sixpence  an  hour ;  two  others  furnished  him  with  a  dinner 
without  cost,  four  days  in  the  week ;  and  thus  there  were  only 
three  days  remaining  on  which  he  would  have  to  live  on  bread 
and  butter.  But  now,  also,  it  was  requisite  that  he  always 
should  be  well  dressed  ;  he  therefore  repaired  himself  the 
somewhat  worn  apparel,  brushed  it  up  and  stitched  it,  and,  if 
a  white-worn  place  became  visible,  he  dyed  it  black  with  ink. 
His  boots,  too,  he  mended  himself ;  that  they  were  a  little  fail- 
ing in  the  soles  mattered  nothing,  so  long  as  the  upper-leathers 
were  whole.  His  behavior  was  a  little  awkward,  and  it  would 
be  still  more  so  if  a  little  hole  had  to  be  concealed,  and  he  rec- 
ollected that  his  coat  permitted  no  violent  movement  with  his 
arms.  Much  rather  would  he  suffer  in  his  own  person  than 
betray  his  poverty.  He  endeavored  to  conceal  from  his 
hostess  that  three  times  in  the  week  he  enjoyed  no  dinner,  by 
taking  a  walk  out  about  the  hour  of  that  meal ;  and  then  he 
made  little  tours  either  through  the  citadel,  that  he  might 
devour  his  bread  and  butter  on  the  shore  of  the  Sound,  or 
toward  the  King's  Garden,  to  amuse  himself,  like  the  nurses 
and  their  children,  with  a  view  of  the  playful  fountains. 

He  dined  on  Fridays  and  Sundays  with  the  counselor-of- 
war,  who  had  once  sailed  with  Peter  Vieck  to  Copenhagen. 
That  was  a  genteel  family ;  but  the  genteelest  person  in  it  was 
the  eldest  son,  the  student,  who  by  means  of  his  clothes  was 
a  handsome  man,  and,  because  of  his  little  entertainments, 
had  attained  a  certain  consequence  among  his  comrades.  He 
never  exchanged  a  word  with  Christian,  never  saluted  him 
when  he  entered  the  house,  nor  when  he  left  it  again.  The 
mother  spoke  of  his  virtuous  life,  and  the  young  seamstress 
blushed  at  what  she  said.  If  strangers  were  at  table,  Chris- 
tian was  displaced  ;  it  could  not  at  all  amuse  him  to  be  in 
company  with  people  with  whom  he  was  not  acquainted  !  Be- 
sides, could  he  not  have  brushed  his  coat  so  as  to  make  it  fit 
to  appear  in  company  ? 

On  Tuesdays  and  Thursdays  he  dined  at  the  lackey's,  the 
royal  lackey's  —  an  acquaintance  who,  he  confidently  hoped, 
would  assist  him  to  fortune  and  honor,  for  this  man  could 


ONLY  A    FIDDLER! 

speak  of  him  to  the  great ;  and  this,  madame.  his  wife,  hinted 
at  every  moment.  Her  husband  could  go  in  and  out  there 
where  counselors-of-war,  and  much  genteeler  gentlemen,  must 
stand  before  the  door  and  wait.  She  never,  however,  called 
her  husband  lackey,  but  said  that  he  was  connected  with  the 
royal  family. 

The  little  daughter  of  this  married  pair  was  now  the  object 
of  Christian's  engagement  in  the  family.  The  little  girl  was 
called  after  the  whole  royal  family,  and  had  received  in  baptism 
the  following  names :  Marie,  Karoline,  Wilhelmine,  Char- 
lotte, Amalie,  Juliane,  Friederike ;  but  her  every-day  name  was 
Mieke,  which  was  an  abbreviation  of  the  queen's  name,  Marie 
Friederike. 

He  only  found  it  comfortable  in  his  own  little  chamber, 
although  it  was  cold  here  as  the  winter  came  on.  Turf  and 
wood  he  purchased  by  pennyworths,  and  it  froze  great  ice- 
flowers  upon  his  windows.  Neither  had  he  every  evening  the 
means  of  purchasing  a  thin  candle,  but  he  could  play  his 
fantasies  very  well  on  his  violin  in  the  dark. 

"  There  stands  a  maiden  for  you  on  your  window,"  said  the 
servant  girl,  as  she  swept  out  his  room  and  pointed  at  the 
frozen  window-pane.  The  hostess  had  shaken  her  head 
thoughtfully,  for  exactly  such  a  maiden,  seven  years  before, 
had  stood  upon  the  window  at  which  her  husband  sat  shoe- 
making.  "  Dost  thou  see,  mother,"  he  had  said,  "  the  hand- 
some maiden  here  ?  She  beckons  me  !  "  and  two  months  after 
he  lay  in  his  grave.  That  must  have  been  the  cold  death- 
maiden,  who  was  come  for  him  ;  but  in  this  case  it  could  not, 
indeed,  mean  anything  like  that,  as  Christian  was  a  younj. 
man.  The  thought  of  cold  death  thrilled  through  him,  and 
in  the  midst  of  want  which  encompassed  him,  and  without  any 
prospect  of  a  better  future,  the  desire  for  life  awoke  in  him, 
and,  seizing  his  fiddle,  he  forgot  hunger  and  cold  in  the 
exquisite  melodies  which  he  drew  from  his  instrument. 

On  many  a  solitary  evening  were  these  tones  his  only  supper, 
until  the  extreme  coldness  disabled  his  fingers  for  the  delicate 
movement.  Soul  and  sentiment  were  in  these  fantasies,  but 
nobody  heard  them.  Fortune,  fortune  which  alone  can  cherish, 
would  not  mount  so  many  pair  of  stairs  to  seek  out  genius  in 
the  garret 


OA7.Y  A    FIDDLER  I  2  5  3 

Mendelssohn-Bartholdy  has  written  several  musical  com- 
positions, which  he  calls  "  Songs  without  Words,"  but  every 
spirit  kindred  to  his  own  will  read  text  to  them  in  his  own 
soul.  To  Christian's  violin  playing  we  also  could  give  words ; 
might  they  only  find  hearers  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the 
powerful !  might  but  one  being  of  true  talent  be  saved  in  a 
century  from  perishing  through  want  and  sorrow  ! 

You  mighty  ones  of  the  earth  !  you  understand  the  works 
of  the  painter  and  the  sculptor  because  they  ornament  your 
halls  and  your  rooms  of  state,  but  that  which  the  poet  and 
musician  create  is  still  to  you  an  enigma  —  the  richest  treas- 
ures of  the  soul,  which  neither  moth  nor  rust  can  corrupt ;  you 
only  can  comprehend  it  when  a  century  has  taught  you  the 
value  of  these  divine  works  :  LET  NOT,  we  beseech  of  you, 

TRUE    TALENT,    WHILST   YET   ON    EARTH,    SUFFER   SHIPWRECK  ! 

Will  these  words,  too,  like  Christian's  violin  playing,  sound 
unheard  ? 

Elegance  reigned  in  the  dwelling  of  the  lackey,  —  that  is  to 
say,  in  furniture  and  a  brilliant  collection  of  books.  All  the 
books  were  bound  in  morocco,  yet  when  they  were  looked  at 
they  were  found  to  be  the  annual  volumes  of  the  "  Citizen's 
Friend  "  to  which  this  outward  honor  had  happened. 

The  lady  of  the  house  was  fond  of  reading,  and  therefore 
she  was  a  member  of  a  book-club,  from  which  she  was  allowed 
to  take  two  volumes  at  a  time,  mostly  a  horrible  robber-ro- 
mance for  day-reading,  and  a  love-story  for  the  evening.  She 
acted  also  in  a  German  dramatic  society,  because  she  had 
been  confirmed  in  a  German  church. 

Upon  the  whole,  she  estimated  Christian's  talent.  Every 
artist  has,  like  Goethe,  his  Bettina,  only  they  do  not  all  of 
them  write.  Madame  was  thus  the  one  who  admired  most 
Christian's  talent,  or  rather,  she  was  the  only  one  who  gave 
words  to  her  admiration.  Christian  was  always  invited  when- 
ever she  had  company,  that  is  to  say,  to  bring  his  fiddle  with 
him  ;  and  then  he  played  to  the  company,  and  undertook  late 
at  night  the  not  yet,  with  us,  wholly  abolished  social  bond- 
service, of  attending  home  the  ladies.  Often  when  he  was 
dejected  in  spirit  she  assured  him  that  he  was  a  much  more 
fortunate  man  than  thousands  of  poor  starving  wretches,  wh<j 
were  a  deal  worse  off  than  himself. 


254  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

That  which  is  said  of  a  great  portion  of  the  critics  is  very 
true,  that  they  chew  through  a  book  in  order  to  find  out 
whether  there  be  not  some  little  stones  which  will  crack  be- 
tween their  teeth.  Such  chewing  had  become  a  continual 
custom  of  the  war-counselor  ;  but  as  the  stomach  only,  and 
not  the  heart,  with  him  was  spoiled,  he  divided  books  into 
two  portions,  —  those  which  were  examined  in  mild  weather 
when  he  was  in  good  humor,  and  those  which  were  to  be 
grumbled  at  in  bad  weather.  The  good  counselor-of-war 
annoyed  himself  and  many  others  ;  they  mutually  forgot  that 
in  another  world,  where  we  must  all  of  us  be  submitted  to 
criticism,  the  errors  of  the  press  will  be  corrected,  false  read- 
ings improved,  and  we  shall  certainly  go  together  hand-in- 
hand  and  smile  at  our  common  zeal  in  the  boyish  years  of  our 
earthly  life.  A  criticism  is  always  only  the  judgment  of  one 
man,  and  it  often  only  shows  whether  the  dreamer  stands 
above  or  below  him  upon  whom  he  passes  sentence. 

The  war-counselor  showed  kind  sympathy  toward  Chris- 
tian, and  therefore  the  young  man  ^oved  him  ;  through  his 
influence  he  was  to  have  the  so-called  honor  of  being  listened 
to  between  the  acts  of  the  dramatic  company,  of  which  the 
war-counselor  was  a  director.  That  would  be  a  great  and  a 
decided  step  in  his  fortune !  he  hoped  thereby  to  excite  an 
interest  in  many  persons. 

"  I  have  spoken  in  your  favor  to  my  colleagues,"  said  the 
war-counselor  to  Christian ;  "  they  are  all  for  you,  even  the 
Manager,  who  is  quite  as  important  as  a  director." 

By  means  of  a  dirty  back-staircase  the  temple  of  Thalia  in 
:he  fifth  story  was  reached,  in  which  the  actors  looked  as  if 
they  had  all  been  set  upon  a  waiter.  It  was  a  rehearsal,  and 
therefore  the  greatest  disunion  and  confusion  prevailed.  The 
lover  threatened  that  he  would  immediately  go  his  ways  if  it 
were  not  permitted  to  him  to  interpolate  wherever  he  was  not 
able  to  remember  his  part.  That  which  he  said  was  just  as 
good  as  that  which  stood  in  the  book,  and  it  might  quite  as 
well  be  permitted  to  him  as  to  the  war-counselor  to  make 
interpolations.  The  lady  of  thirty,  who  was  to  act  the  grand- 
mother, would  on  no  consideration  allow  that  she  should  be 
painted  older :  she  looked  quite  old  enough,  she  said,  \rerj 
prjdishly.  In  short,  all  was  strife  and  discord. 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  t  255 

At  length  the  Friday  evening  came.  Christian  borrowed  a 
suit  of  black  clothes,  and  his  hostess  curled  his  hair  with  the 
fire-tongs.  His  cheeks  glowed,  his  heart  beat  violently,  as  the 
curtain  rose  and  he  now  stood  there  before  the  whole,  for  the 
most  part,  citizen  public  which  stared  at  him. 

He  played  extremely  well,  and  the  directors  received  him 
behind  the  scenes,  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  complimented 
him.  A  barber,  who  played  the  violin  himself,  and  a  lottery- 
collector  who  beat  the  kettle-drum,  sprung  upon  the  stage  to 
thank  him,  and  lifted  him  up  into  the  third  heaven  by  prais- 
ing his  flageolet-tones  and  his  wonderful  management  of  his 
instrument. 

"  My  fortune  is  made,"  thought  Christian ;  "  this  evening 
everybody  will  speak  only  of  me,  will  think  only  of  me." 
Every  performer,  down  to  the  poor  satellite  who  has  only 
spoken  the  single  word  "  Back  !  "  had  thought  the  same  of  his 
performance.  Not  until  half-past  eleven  was  the  representa- 
tion at  an  end,  and  only  in  regard  to  him  can  it  be  said  of 
this  sort  of  pleasure  that  it  holds  out. 

Christian  could  not  sleep  when  he  was  come  back  to  his 
garret ;  he  looked  out  into  the  star-bright  night  and  thought 
upon  his  good  fortune,  on  Lucie  and  Peter  Vieck,  on  warm 
summer  days  and  on  Naomi. 

Every  letter  which  he  wrote  home  breathed  joy  and  youth- 
ful courage ;  he  expressed  in  them  livingly  every  hope.  His 
mother  received  gladly  the  sweet  thought  that  his  fortune  was 
already  half  made  ;  he  was  admitted  really  into  great  families, 
and  played  his  violin  in  the  theatre  !  In  her  poverty  she  im- 
agined it  to  be  a  splendid  life.  She  knew  his  good  heart,  and 
as  God  had  taken  her  little  child  to  Himself  she  got  a  seat  as 
gratis-passenger  beside  the  driver,  and  set  off,  although  but 
poorly,  in  the  middle  of  winter,  to  Copenhagen,  that  she  might 
live  there  with  Christian,  of  whose  good  fortune  she  had  told 
all  her  neighbors  and  friends. 

It  would  be  such  a  surprise  to  her  dear  son  when  she  ar- 
rived !  —  and  so,  indeed,  it  was. 

There  sat  now  the  mother  and  son  in  that  little  three-cor- 
nered garret !  The  snow  blew  in  at  the  window,  and  th« 
hostess  was  disconcerted  at  the  visit. 


256  ONLY  A   FIDDLER1 

"  Things  are  going  on  well  with  thee,"  said  Marie :  "  with 
me  they  got  worse:  but  thou  hast,  indeed,  a  good  heart.  I 
thank  my  God  that  he  has  given  thee  to  me  for  comfort." 

She  slept  upon  Christian's  bed  and  he  stood  at  the  window, 
at  the  frozen  window,  and  prayed  with  a  pious  heart,  —  "  Thou 
God  of  mercy  have  pity  upon  us  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"More  magnificent  than  we   in   our   North,  the   beggar   lives  at  the 
ingel's-gate,  for  he  looks  on  the  eternal,  the  only  Rome.  "  —  SCHILLER. 

IT  is  too  melancholy  in  that  cold,  narrow  garret,  where  the 
mother  sleeps  and  the  son  suffers.  We  will  leave  it ;  we 
will  flee  away  out  of  the  cold  air  and  from  deep  sighs,  flee 
away  to  the  large  and  magnificent  saloons  of  the  warm  South 
to  seek  for  Naomi,  and  when  we  have  found  her  we  shall  find 
ourselves  in  the  world-famous  Rome,  the  city  of  remembrances, 
the  coliseum  of  the  world.1 

The  soft  air  waves  toward  us,  the  lamps  burn  before  the  im- 
age of  the  Madonna,  where  the  lovely  children  kneel  and  sing, 
with  the  soft  voices  of  the  South,  their  evening  hymn.  The 
burning  candles  shine  through  the  painted  windows  of  the 
churches,  where  the  mass  is  read  and  lovers  have  their  meet- 
ings. The  peasant  and  the  beggar  wrap  themselves  up  in 
their  cloaks,  and  choose  for  themselves  a  couch  upon  the 
broad  steps.  The  masked  procession  with  burning  torches 
advances  through  the  narrow,  crooked  streets.  Upon  the  Pi- 
azza Venezia  torches,  which  are  fastened  upon  iron  forks, 
are  burning,  and  papal  soldiers  on  horseback  are  drawn  up 
there  as  guards.  A  ball  is  given  at  the  Duchess  Torlonia's ; 
the  greater  part  of  the  invited  guests  are  strangers  from  the  other 
side  of  the  mountains  ;  the  colonnades  are  dazzlingly  lighted  ; 
busts  and  statues  look  as  if  animated  by  the  flickering  light  of 
the  torches ;  the  principal  staircase  is  adorned  with  orna- 
mental shrubs  and  beautiful  carpets,  and  even  the  picture 
gallery  is  a  promenade.  In  the  two  large  saloons  dancing 
is  going  on  upon  the  polished  floor,  smooth  as  a  mirror ;  the 
side  rooms  are  devoted  "o  card-parties  and  conversation. 

i "  O  Rom    .         .    . 

Du  werldens  Colisee  !  "  —  NICANDER. 


2(j8  ^NLY  A  FIDDLER! 

Steel  engravings  and  English  and  French  newspapers  are  to 
be  found  in  the  library. 

Let  us  enter  into  the  great  dancing-room :  magnificent  can- 
delabras  around  the  room  diffuse  a  blaze  of  light ;  sixteen 
chandeliers  depend  from  the  lofty  ceiling.  Directly  before  us 
in  the  great  niche  stands  a  colossal  Hercules,  who  in  his  wild 
agony  has  seized  upon  Lichas  by  one  foot  and  by  his  hair  to 
dash  him  against  a  rock  —  forming  a  strange  contrast  to  the 
soft  dancing  airs  and  the  joyous  youth. 

The  Count  was  in  conversation  with  an  Italian  of  an  agree- 
able exterior,  whose  countenance  had  remarkably  pleasing 
features,  —  that  was  the  sculptor  Canova,  the  pride  of  Italy. 
He  pointed  to  Naomi,  who  was  floating  through  the  light 
dance  on  the  arm  of  a  young  French  officer. 

"  Of  a  truth,  an  uncommonly  beautiful  girl !  "  said  he ;  "a 
perfectly  Roman  glance !  And  yet  I  am  told  that  she  is  from 
the  North." 

"  She  is  my  adopted  daughter,"  replied  the  Count ;  "  the 
young  officer  with  whom  she  dances  is  the  son  of  the  Marquis 
Rebard,  one  of  the  most  splendid  families  in  Paris.  He  is  a 
young  man  of  spirit  and  talent ;  I  have  known  him  ever  since 
his  fourteenth  year." 

Naomi,  full  of  life  enjoyment  and  in  the  possession  of  her 
entire  youthful  gayety,  seemed  like  a  younger  sister  of  Titian's 
"  Flora,"  or  a  daughter  of  Raphael's  "  Fornarina,"  —  at  least 
she  was  related  to  these  portraits.  Her  round,  white  arm 
rested  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  Marquis.  He  was  tall  and 
slender,  his  look  was  full  of  spirit  and  life,  and  he  could  scarcely 
have  attained  his  three-and-twentieth  year.  A  gay  life  had,  it 
is  true,  paled  the  roses  of  his  cheeks,  but  the  fire  of  passion 
kindled  in  his  eyes.  He  now  conducted  Naomi  to  the  rich 
sofa  and  brought  her  refreshments. 

In  the  North,  where  the  snow  was  now  falling,  Christian 
dreamed,  in  his  desolate  garret,  of  Naomi ;  she  sat  upon  his 
bed,  laid  her  arm  around  his  neck,  and  kissed  him  on  the 
forehead.  In  the  Prater,  in  the  wooden  house,  Ladislaf  also 
dreamed ;  the  switch  hung  beside  his  bed :  he  also  dreamed 
of  Naomi,  and  laughed  jeeringly  in  his  dream.  She,  however, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  delightful  present,  had  forgotten  them 
both. 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  ! 


259 


"  One  can  fancy  one's  self  here  transported  to  Paris,"  said 
the  Marquis ;  "  everything  here  reminds  me  of  our  saloons. 
But  if  anybody  desires  to  obtain  in  Rome  a  representation  of 
the  feasts  and  the  bacchanalian  mirth  of  ancient  Rome  within 
four  walls,  they  must  take  part  in  the  guild  of  the  young  paint- 
ers. They  drink  crowned  with  ivy-garlands,  and  cool  the 
burning  forehead  with  fresh  roses.  As  the  greater  part  of  the 
many  artists  who  live  here  are  Germans,  these  festivities  have 
therefore  a  German  character.  The  French,  English,  and 
Danes  join  them  ;  as  artists,  they  all  form  one  great  nation, 
that  of  mind.  During  my  first  short  residence  here,  or  rather, 
I  should  say,  on  my  journey  through  Rome,  I  was  present  at 
their  cervaro  —  a  sort  of  modern  bacchanal  in  the  Campagna. 
The  greater  number  of  those  who  took  part  in  it  were  masked, 
and  dressed  in  the  most  whimsical  costumes,  and  rode  thus 
on  horses  and  asses  in  the  very  early  dawn  through  the  Porta 
Maggiore.  There  was  a  Zoroaster,  who  was  drawn  by  lions, 
which  were  nothing  more  than  two  well-fed  asses.  Don 
Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza  were  two  excellent  figures  in  the 
pageantry.  The  whole  thing  formed  a  perfect  carnival  pro- 
cession, in  which  were  knights  armed  with  spears  and  wooden 
swords,  and  in  which  songs  in  every  possible  language  re- 
sounded in  the  early  morning  hour.  Outside  the  city  the 
three-headed  Cerberus  stood  before  the  cave  at  which  we 
halted.  Little  cobolds  danced  about  on  the  green  heights, 
pistols  were  fired,  and  great  fires  burned.  The  donkeys 
threw  many  of  the  knights  into  the  grass  :  there  lay  the  Chi- 
nese Tschang-Tsching-Tschu  beside  her  majesty  the  Queen 
of  Sheba.  I  shall  never  forget  the  races ;  every  second 
jockey  was  a  complete  Dr.  Syntax." 

"  Are  ladies  permitted  to  be  present  at  these  festivities  ?  " 
asked  Naomi. 

"  By  all  means  !  "  replied  the  young  man.  "  I  have  seen 
natives  and  strangers  —  in  short,  ladies  of  all  nations,  there. 
In  the  Osteria,  on  the  contrary,  where  the  artists  assemble 
every  evening,  no  lady  is  admitted  :  there  then,  also,  is  such  a 
smoking  of  tobacco,  that  a  Frenchman  can  hardly  breathe  in 
it.  Nevertheless  I  have  amused  myself  excellently  well  the 
few  evenings  I  have  been  able  to  spend  there.  One  must 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

know  everything.  If  I  were  a  painter,  I  would  give  these  gay 
groups  upon  canvas  ;  and  if  I  were  a  poet,  I  would  also 
write  a  vaudeville  upon  what  I  had  heard  there." 

"  You  excite  in  me  a  great  desire  to  go  there,"  said  Naomi ; 
"  is  not  there  somewhere  a  peep-hole,  through  which  one  could 
be  an  unobserved  spectator  of  these  festivities  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  could  disguise  yourself  as  a  gentleman, 
could  I  venture  to  introduce  you." 

"  A  lady  from  the  North  ventures  upon  no  disguise,"  re- 
turned Naomi. 

"  One  of  my  friends,"  again  began  the  Marquis,  "  will  be 
introduced  to-morrow  ;  there  will  then  be  a  Pontemolle,  as  it 
is  called  :  he  will  be  conducted  over  the  bridge  of  the  Tiber. 
Formerly  it  was  the  custom  among  the  artists,  when  a  well- 
known  countryman  arrived,  to  go  out  to  meet  him  as  far  as 
Pontemolle,1  and  to  drink  to  his  welcome  in  the  inn  there. 
Now  this  takes  place  in  Rome,  in  the  hostel  where  the  artists 
themselves  assemble  in  an  evening.  Every  artist,  be  he  of 
great  or  of  small  repute,  is  a  brother  of  the  order  as  soon  as 
ever  he  has  given  a  Pontemolle  ;  that  is,  has  paid  for  every- 
thing which,  on  this  his  evening  of  induction,  the  guests  have 
consumed.  The  waiter  sets  one  jug  of  wine  after  another  on 
the  table ;  several  right  comical  ceremonies  are  likewise  per- 
formed, and  the  new  candidate  for  membership  is  nominated 
Knight  of  the  Bajocco  order,  the  decoration  of  which  consists 
in  a  copper  bajocco  attached  to  a  ribbon,  which  at  every  fresh 
Pontemolle  is  hung  around  the  neck.  Horace  Vernet,  Over- 
beck,  and  Thorwaldsen  are  likewise  masters  of  this  order." 

A  new  dance  began,  and  by  this  means  the  conversation 
was  interrupted,  and,  arm-in-arm,  the  young  couple  sped  away 
over  the  polished  floor. 

At  noon  next  day  the  light  cabriolet  of  the  Marquis  drew 
up  before  the  hotel  in  the  Spanish  Square,  where  the  Count 
lodged.  Naomi  was  invited  to  a  drive  in  the  garden  of  the 
Villa  Pamphilia.  Although  one  finds  one's  self  here  close 
beneath  the  walls  of  Rome,  yet  still  it  seems  as  if  one  were 
in  the  country,  far  removed  from  the  city.  Nothing  is  to  be 
•een  of  Rome ;  and  the  extensive  view  over  the  Campagna 
1  Pons  Milvius.  —  Author's  Note. 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  I  2  6 1 

opens  itself  to  our  eyes,  where  the  aqueduct,  raised  upon  brick- 
work arches  many  fathoms  high  above  the  earth,  and  thirty 
miles  in  length,  which  conveys  water  to  Rome,  bounds  the 
horizon  in  beautiful  wavy  lines. 

Although  it  was  January,  the  sun  shone  warm  ;  the  day  re- 
sembled a  September  day  in  the  North.  The  proud  pine-trees 
lifted  their  evergreen  heads  into  the  pure  blue  air ;  laurel-trees, 
especially  the  Lauro-cerasus,  formed  the  undergrowth,  and 
gave  to  the  whole  a  summer-like  appearance.  Yellow  oranges 
hung  between  the  green  leaves ;  roses  and  anemones  bloomed  ; 
and  round  about,  in  the  walks,  sprang  forth  the  water  in  little 
jets  from  vases  and  columns.  Naomi  spoke  again  of  her  great 
desire  to  accompany  the  Marquis  to  the  Osteria.  She  had, 
she  said,  had  a  male  suit  of  attire  and  a  blouse  made  for  the 
approaching  carnival ;  and  besides  this  she  had  (but  of  this 
she  said  nothing)  also  her  jockey  costume  from  Vienna,  which, 
however,  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  her  to  have  worn 
again,  because  it  would  have  reminded  her  of  a  time  which 
she  would  willingly  forget.  Nothing  more  was  now  needed 
than  to  persuade  her  father  to  be  of  the  party ;  and  that  would 
be  easily  done,  thought  the  Marquis. 

They  had  now  gone  through  the  whole  garden,  and  stopped 
again  at  the  trellis-gate  toward  the  road :  there  sat,  upon  a 
broken  capital,  a  Capuchin  monk  in  his  brown  cloak ;  a  white 
straw  hat  shaded  his  bald  head,  and  sandals  defended  his 
naked  feet. 

The  Marquis  saluted  him  as  an  acquaintance,  and  told 
Naomi  that  the  monk  came  to  visit  him  sometimes.  "  I  see 
him,"  said  he,  "  when  he  collects  little  donations  for  his  con- 
vent. He  is  satisfied  with  my  presents,  and  he  treats  me, 
therefore,  to  a  pinch  of  snuff.  Besides,  you  must  know,  he  is 
a  countryman  of  yours,  for  he  is  out  of  Denmark." 

"My  countryrran?"  repeated  Naomi,  inquiringly,  as  she 
looked  more  nearly  at  the  man,  who  rose  at  the  moment  to 
put  his  leathern  wallet  on  his  shoulder  and  to  proceed  on  his 
way. 

Naomi  addressed  him  in  the  Danish  tongue.  The  monk 
reddened. 

"  You  are  from  Denmark  ?     she  asked. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

"  O  God,  you  speak  Danish !  "  exclaimed  he,  and  his  eyes 
sparkled.  "  I  never  hear  that  language.  I  cannot  have  inter- 
course with  my  countrymen  on  account  of  the  position  in 
which  I  am  placed,  and  therefore  I  never  meet  with  them. 
O  God,  you  are  out  of  that  dear,  to  me  so  beloved,  Den- 
mark !  " 

"  Were  you  born  mere  ? "  asked  Naomi. 

"  Born  and  bred,"  replied  the  monk.  "  Many  happy  days 
lived  I  there  ;  but  then  I  endured  a  deal  before  I  came  hither, 
and  into  this  dress." 

"  Visit  me  also  when  you  again  collect  for  your  convent," 
said  Naomi :  "  I  live  in  the  hotel  in  the  Spanish  Square." 
And  she  mentioned  the  name  of  her  foster-father. 

"  You  are  his  daughter  !  "  interrupted  the  monk.  "  Don't 
you  know  me  ?  I  used  to  live  in  Svendborg  —  had  a  wife  and 
son  there.  Ah  !  I  have  endured  a  deal  of  misfortune  ;  and 
here  I  might  have  died  of  hunger,  had  not  the  convent  taken 
me  as  a  serving-brother." 

It  was  Christian's  father  ;  Naomi  knew  him. 

When  the  sun  went  down  and  the  bells  sounded  the  Ave 
Maria,  Naomi  stood  ready  in  her  male  attire,  which  was  so 
very  becoming  to  her,  and  with  the  little  mustache  on  her 
beautiful  upper  lip.  The  carnival  time  was  approaching ;  and, 
besides,  these  disguises  were  not  such  very  uncommon  things 
in  Rome,  she  thought.  The  Count  shook  his  head  a  little 
about  it.  But  now  the  servant  announced  the  young  Marquis  ; 
and  in  half  an  hour  the  three  were  on  their  way  to  the  Osteria, 
where  the  artists  assembled. 

This  Osteria  lay  close  beside  one  of  the  little  churches  in 
Rome.  By  day,  the  light  alone  entered  it  by  the  open  double 
door ;  the  floor  was  paved  with  common  stones ;  the  whole 
length  of  one  wall  was  occupied  by  a  fire-place,  where  one  fire 
beside  another  burned  under  the  most  various  kinds  of  eatables, 
which  were  prepared  by  husband,  wife,  and  two  sons,  amid 
incessant  laughter  and  gossip.  Upon  the  crooked  table  lay, 
in  the  most  picturesque  arrangement,  and  ornamented  with 
green  leaves,  every  kind  of  fish  and  flesh :  one  could  select 
irom  amongst  them  that  which  one  desired  to  have  prepared. 
At  the  Jong  wooden  tables  sat  peasants  with  their  wives  and 


ONLY  A    FIDDLER!  363 

daughters,  with  great  wine  bottles  wrapped  in  straw  standing 
before  them.  A  garland  of  red-glass  lamps  burned  around 
the  somewhat  tawdrily  painted  picture  of  the  Madonna  on 
the  wall  ;  and  an  ass,  heavily  laden,  which  certainly  was  wait- 
ing for  its  master,  had  likewise  a  place  in  the  room.  The 
peasants  improvised,  and  the  women  sang  in  chorus.  Neaf 
to  the  chimney,  where  the  signora  of  the  Osteria  stood,  there 
hung  a  little  child  in  a  basket  on  the  wall,  that  played  with  its 
little  arms  and  looked  down  upon  the  bright  and  merry  as- 
semblage. 

The  Count,  the  Marquis,  and  Naomi  went  through  this 
room  toward  the  high  stone  steps  which  conducted  into 
another  larger  room,  which  had  once  been  the  refectorium  of 
the  convent;  but  the  convent  had  now  vanished,  and  the 
church  alone  stood  there.  Here  (which  is  a  rarity  in  the 
South)  the  floor  was  covered  with  wood ;  the  vaulted  roof 
formed  several  arches  ;  on  the  walls  hung  withered  garlands, 
and  in  the  centre  an  O  and  a  T  woven  in  oak-leaves.  These 
letters  denoted  the  names  of  Overbeck  and  Thorwaldsen,  who 
had  both  given  here  a  Pontemolle  ;  and  these  garlands  and 
these  initials  still  hung  here  in  memory  of  these  much  honored 
men. 

As  in  the  first  room,  the  long  tables  here  were  also  cov- 
ered ;  yet  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  table-cloths  were  a  lit- 
tle gray  in  color.  Brass  lamps,  each  with  six  wicks,  were 
burning  at  short  distances  from  each  other  ;  a  strong  cloud  of 
tobacco-smoke  rose  up  to  the  ceiling.  Down  the  sides  of  the 
tables,  upon  wooden  benches,  sat  old  and  young  painters, 
most  of  them  German,  the  proper  founders  of  this  Kneip-life. 
All  wore  mustaches  and  whiskers  and  long  hair.  Here  sat 
one  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  there  another  in  a  blouse  ;  the  old  cel- 
ebrated Reinhardt  sat  among  them,  in  his  leathern  jerkin  and 
red  woolen  cap  ;  he  had  fastened  his  dog  to  the  chair,  and  the 
creature  sat  there  barking  loudly  at  another  dog.  There  was 
also  to  be  seen  Overbeck,  with  his  bare  neck  and  his  long 
locks,  which  hung  down  upon  his  white  shirt-collar ;  he  was 
clad  d  la  Raphael,  yet  not  as  a  costume  for  the  occasion,  but 
in  his  ordinary  dress.  By  means  of  his  geniality,  he  ap- 
proached Perugino  and  Raphael  m  art ;  through  his  littla 


,64  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

weakness  he  resembled  them  also  in  his  dress.  The  Tyrolesc, 
Joseph  Koch,  the  old  painter  with  the  jovial  mien,  extended 
his  hand  to  the  Marquis.  They  seated  themselves. 

The  festally  attired  dignitaries  of  the  Pontemolle  were  soon 
seen  to  take  their  places  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Next  to  the 
general,  whose  uniform  was,  as  it  were,  overlaid  with  stars  and 
orders  of  paper,  and  on  the  right,  was  the  executioner,  with 
bare  arms,  a  tiger-skin  around  his  shoulders,  and  the  fasces 
and  axe  in  his  hand  ;  but  to  the  left  was  the  Minnesinger, 
with  the  barret  and  the  guitar.  The  minstrel  struck  a  few  ac- 
cords on  his  instrument,  which  were  answered  from  without. 
There  began  a  sort  of  duet ;  a  painter  stood  outside  the  door, 
who  desired  to  cross  over  the  Tiber.  A  musical  "  Come  in  ! " 
sounded,  and  upon  that  the  traveller  entered.  He  carried  a 
knapsack  on  his  shoulders  ;  his  face  was  painted  white  ;  the 
long  hair  and  beard  were  of  flax,  and  his  finger-nails  were  of 
dough.  He  was  conducted  to  the  table  with  a  measured 
song ;  a  glass  of  wine  was  given  to  him,  and  the  laws  were 
read  aloud  to  him,  of  which  the  most  important  were,  that  he 
should  love  his  general  and  alone  serve  him  ;  that  he  should 
not  covet  his  neighbors'  wine,  etc.,  etc.  He  then  mounted 
upon  a  bench,  then  upon  the  table  ;  the  false  hair  and  nails 
were  cut  from  him,  and  his  travelling  attire  taken  off.  Stand- 
ing there  now  in  his  customary  dress,  he  descended  again  from 
the  other  side  of  the  table,  and  that  was  Pontemolle.  During 
these  ceremonies,  banners,  on  which  were  wine-bottles,  eagles, 
and  emblems  of  painting  were  erected.  One  blew  the  trum- 
pet, another  struck  the  cymbals,  which  consisted  of  two  tin 
plates ;  the  dogs  barked,  and  the  Tyrolese  jodelled.  With  this 
the  bacchanal  began.  Each  one  bound  his  napkin  around  his 
head,  and  a  monk's  procession,  with  singing,  commenced  ; 
they  went  round  about  and  over  table  and  benches,  both 
world-renowned  and  ephemeral  painters.  Every  one  now  had 
to  distinguish  himself;  a  laughable  song,  a  characteristic 
cooper's-song,  was  struck  up,  to  which  every  one  had  to  beat 
time  with  his  hands  upon  the  table,  and  the  delighted  cooper- 
bench  gave  every  line  a  point  with  white  chalk  on.  the  black 
table. 

3n  the  midst  of  this  merriment  four  actual  gens-d'armet 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  265 

stormed  into  the  room,  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  seized  one  of 
the  most  respectable  of  the  painters  in  order  to  arrest  him. 
On  this  there  arose  a  universal  confusion,  cry,  and  opposition, 
until  one  of  the  gens-d'armes  broke  into  a  loud  peal  of  laugh- 
ter, and  the  whole  was  explained  to  be  a  concerted  scheme  of 
the  newly  inducted  painter.  That  was  the  stranger's  contribu- 
tion to  the  night's  merriment.  Four  steaming  punch-bowls  were 
then  borne  in,  which  were  the  presents  of  some  unknown  per- 
son in  the  company.  On  this  they  all  joined  in  the  song. 
"  Long  life  to  the  unknown  giver  !  " 

A  poor  Italian  now  entered  by  chance,  and  prayed  for  per- 
mission to  exhibit  his  art,  or  rather  that  they  would  listen  to 
it ;  which  was  granted  to  him.  He  could  imitate  the  voices 
of  animals,  which,  however,  the  dogs  took  very  ill  ;  and  thun- 
der and  lightning,  also,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth,  which  made 
them  all  very  merry.  But  the  man  had  his  weak  side,  which 
was  the  pleasure  he  had  in  hearing  himself  sing,  and  he  might 
have  become  a  very  good  singer  if  his  voice  had  been  culti- 
vated in  his  youth  ;  but  as  it  was,  his  performances  were 
lamentable.  He  sang  duets,  as  well  the  part  of  the  lover  as 
the  mistress ;  turned  up  his  eyes,  and  made  the  while  all  kind 
of  ludicrous  grimaces.  His  auditors,  however,  incessantly  in- 
terrupted him,  and  desired  to  hear  the  cries  of  animals,  and 
the  thunder-storm,  which  he  considered  far  inferior  to  his 
singing.  There  was  something  quite  affecting  in  the  extreme 
emaciation  of  the  poor  man,  and  as  the  plate  went  round  to 
collect  contributions  for  him,  Naomi  was  reminded  of  Chris- 
tian. She  had  for  a  long  time  forgotten  him  ;  this  poor  man, 
in  whom  she  seemed  to  see  something  kindred  to  him,  brought 
him  back  into  her  remembrance. 

"  Have  not  we  two  seen  one  another  in  Vienna  ? "  inquired 
a.  young  man  with  a  strong  beard,  as  he  made  an  easy  bow  to 
Naomi.  "  We  certainly  made  a  journey  together  to  Hitzing 
in  the  gesellschaftswagen  !  " 

Naomi  crimsoned  over  and  over ;  she  looked  keenly  at  the 
inquirer,  and  recognized  in  his  pragmatical  look  the  man  who 
had  been  in  the  carriage  with  her  when  she  sought  for  Ladis- 
laf  in  the  casino,  and  who  at  that  time  had  said  to  her  that  he 
knew  by  her  accent  that  she  was  not  a  native,  that  he  had 


266  ONLY  A   FIDDLER t 

seen  her  in  the  Prater,  and  that  she  would  find  her  master  in 
Hitzing.  All  this  rose  vividly  to  her  remembrance. 

"  Is  the  horse-rider,  Ladislaf,  also  here  in  Rome  ?  "  asked 
he,  in  quite  an  unabashed  tone.  The  Count  was  uneasy. 

"  What  does  the  gentleman  say  ?  "  inquired  the  Marquis. 

"  They  are  not  quite  the  same  sort  of  artists  as  are  accus- 
tomed to  assemble  here,"  continued  the  German,  and  whis- 
pered something  into  his  neighbor's  ear. 

Naomi  was  seized  upon  by  such  an  oppressive  anxiety  as 
she  had  never  before  felt.  What  if  this  man  should  here  re- 
late aloud  that  she  was  a  woman,  and  that  she  had  formerly 
lived  under  circumstances  of  a  very  doubtful  character  !  The 
German  drunk  one  toast  after  another;  his  cheeks  glowed, 
and  his  pragmatical  glance  incessantly  rested  on  Naomi.  A 
roundelay  was  now  struck  up,  in  which  they  moved  in  proces- 
sion around  the  table.  When  the  German  came  opposite  to 
her  he  whispered  in  her  ear,  "  You  are  a  lady  !  "' 

"  Is  that  to  be  an  affront  ?  "  asked  Naomi. 

"Just  as  you  please,"  replied  the  artist,  and  passed  on. 
The  Marquis  heard  nothing  of  it ;  he  did  not  understand  Ger- 
man, and  besides  this,  was  deeply  engrossed  in  the  enjoyment 
of  the  moment.  The  Count  also  seemed  to  forget  the  occur- 
rence in  which  he  had  heard  the  mention  of  Ladislaf  s  name, 
for  he  took  the  most  lively  part  in  the  general  entertainment. 
They  were  again  seated  at  the  table,  as  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
German  artist,  who  that  moment  leaned  across  the  table,  with 
a  malicious  smile,  to  whisper  something  into  Naomi's  ear. 
She  turned  pale ;  her  hand  grasped  convulsively  the  knife 
which  she  had  just  taken  up,  and  she  raised  her  arm. 

At  that  moment,  "  Hutjehu  !  "  resounded  through  the  room. 
One  of  the  older  painters  sprang  in  as  Befana,  upon  an  ass, 
and  the  creature,  terrified  at  the  large  and  noisy  company, 
drove  so  violently  against  the  table  at  which  Naomi  sat,  that 
glasses,  wine-bottles,  and  lamps  were  overturned  by  the  blow ; 
so  that  neither  the  German  nor  any  one  else  observed  the 
agitation  of  mind  which  was  visible  in  Naomi's  countenance, 
nor  yet  the  advantage  which  the  Count's  presence  of  mind 
had  taken  of  the  lucky  general  disturbance.  The  mirth  of 
the  company  assumed  a  boisterous  character,  and  the  Marquis 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  267 

only  became  aware  of  the  absence  of  his  companions  when 
the  waiter  privately  whispered  it  to  him. 

Without,  the  moon  shone  so  bright  that  the  dark  autumn 
days  of  the  North  are  not  brighter  than  the  moonshiny  nights 
in  Rome. 

"  I  really  was  alarmed ! "  was  all  that  the  Count  said. 
Naomi  clung  fast  to  him,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Don't  go  yet !  "  cried  the  Marquis  after  them  ;  "  it  is  just 
beginning  to  be  right  merry  in  the  company." 

"  Our  young  hero  found  it  too  hot  there,  too  oppressive ;  he 
soon  would  have  been  ill,"  replied  the  Count. 

"  O,  that  is  quite  over !  "  said  Naomi ;  "  but  I  would  rather 
not  go  back.  I  have  very  much  amused  myself  this  evening, 
and  I  thank  you  for  the  pleasure,  Marquis  !  " 

"  These  sort  of  merry-makings  bear  the  stamp  of  genius," 
said  the  Marquis ;  and  now  described  the  scenes  which  had 
most  amused  him. 

"  It  has  been,  I  could  almost  think,"  said  Naomi  to  him  in 
a  low  voice,  "  the  pleasantest  evening  which  I  have  spent  in 
Rome." 

An  hour  after  midnight  the  Count  was  gone  to  rest,  and 
slept  soundly  on  the  events  of  the  day.  In  Naomi's  chamber 
also  was  the  night-lamp  extinguished  ;  all  was  still,  but  yet 
she  was  not  in  bed.  Scarcely  undressed,  she  had  thrown  her 
silk  cloak  about  her,  and  had  opened  a  door  which  led  from 
the  balcony  to  her  room  ;  she  leaned  her  head  against  the 
door-post,  and  stood  thus  lost  in  thought.  The  meeting  with 
her  foster-father  in  Vienna  had  not  shook  her  so  deeply  as  the 
scorn-denoting  conduct  of  this  stranger,  at  his  hints  with  ref- 
erence to  a  time  which  she  wished  to  bury  in  eternal  forgetful, 
ness.  In  Vienna  she  had  given  up  all  pretensions  to  a  higher 
grade  of  life,  and  she  had  become  tranquil ;  but  now  she  had 
entered  anew  into  another  sphere,  and  found  herself  in  bril- 
liant circumstances.  Who  would  be  able  to  give  a  picture  of 
such  a  moonlight  night  as  that  in  which  Naomi  gave  herself 
up  to  such  grave  observations  !  It  is  a  night  which  neither 
resembles  day  nor  the  moonlight  of  a  northern  night.  If  one 
should  compare  the  daylight  of  the  North  to  the  clear  burning 
of  a  lamp  which  we  do  not  see,  and  a  bright  night  to  the  flame 


268  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

of  a  candle,  one  might  between  these  two  find  an  expression 
for  the  clear  nights  of  the  South  in  the  light  which  the  astral- 
lamp,  with  its  softened  brightness,  diffuses.  But  in  that  the 
eye  alone  would  have  its  enjoyment ;  the  soul  would  remain 
cold  because  we  should  not  breathe  also  the  air  of  the  South. 
The  most  beautiful  summer  evenings  of  the  North,  enjoyed  on 
the  sea-shore  or  upon  open  hill-tops,  are  filled  with  a  gentle 
and  refreshing  air ;  if,  however,  thou  couldst  see  thyself  sud- 
denly transported  to  the  South,  thou  wouldst  find  the  strong 
difference  between  the  two  to  be  as  great  as  the  difference 
between  the  enjoyment  of  a  sensual  and  a  purely  intellectual 
pleasure.  The  blue,  frosty  heaven  of  the  North  raises  itself 
like  a  lofty  vaulted  roof  above  our  heads ;  in  the  South  this 
far-off  boundary  seems  to  be  a  transparent  glass,  behind  which 
the  space  of  heaven  still  extends. 

Naomi  drew  in  this  pure  air,  and  yet  she  breathed  heavily 
and  deeply ;  this  illumination  rested  above  the  city  of  remem- 
brances, the  Rome  of  the  Caesars  and  the  monks  —  but  for 
that  she  had  no  thought.  There,  below  in  the  Spanish  Square, 
is  a  fountain  ;  the  great  basin  is  hewn  out  in  the  form  of  a 
ship,  the  deck  of  which  is  half  under  water,  and  there,  where 
the  mast  should  heave  itself,  springs  up  the  broad  column  of 
water.  Even  in  the  most  bustling  days  is  heard  the  splash  of 
the  again  descending  water ;  now,  in  the  nocturnal  stillness, 
it  was  yet  louder.  The  moon  mirrored  itself  in  the  water. 
Beneath  the  Madonna's  image,  at  the  corner  of  the  Propa- 
ganda, a  whole  family  slept  upon  the  cold  stones.  Naomi 
opened  a  side-window  of  her  chamber ;  the  Spanish  Steps, 
which  are  of  great  width,  and  almost  as  high  as  the  hotel,  lay 
here  before  her  ;  and  her  eye  also  discovered,  here  and  there, 
a  sleeper,  who  had  wrapped  himself  in  his  cloak.  The  dense 
avenue  above  the  steps  towered  up  double  against  the  clear 
air  ;  the  white  walls  of  the  nunnery  rose  up  ghost-like.  With- 
out having  one  thought  for  all  this  which  she  saw,  Naomi 
looked  up ;  the  bell  of  the  convent-church  now  sounded ; 
serving-sisters  were  now,  in  the  hour  of  night,  busied  in  the 
tower,  whilst  other  sisters  prayed  at  the  altar.  The  sound  of 
the  bell  awoke  Naomi  out  of  her  dream ;  she  bethought  her- 
self of  her  kindred  sufferers,  —  for  suffer  they  certainly  must 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I  269 

She  fancied  that  she  remarked  white  garments  through  the 
.  sounding-holes,  and  she  thought  of  the  captive  maidens  to 
whom  it  was  only  permitted  in  the  hour  of  night  to  cast  down 
from  the  lofty  tower  a  glance  upon  the  dead  Rome  which  lay 
below,  whose  roofs  seemed  to  be  a  wavy  sea,  and  the  many 
cupolas,  sailing-boats.  The  figure  of  the  angel  high  above, 
upon  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  was  for  her  no  consoling 
cherub  which  bounded  toward  her  across  this  petrified  sea ; 
dead,  like  Lot's  wife,  it  stood  there  beckoning  to  her,  as  tf 
with  the  words,  —  "  All  beloved  ones  are  dead  for  you !  " 

"  There  are  many,  after  all,  who  have  to  bear  much  more 
severe  sufferings  than  I,"  said  Naomi,  with  a  low  voice :  "  if 
I  were  one  of  these  I  might"  feel  myself  still  more  unhappy ! 
Our  own  dissatisfaction  depends  upon  our  own  firm  will  and 
our  view  of  life.  I  know  that  which  I  have  to  do  ! "  She 
waited  still  a  moment,  sunk  in  thought,  and  glanced  up  toward 
the  convent  and  the  dark  avenue,  which  seemed  as  if  it  were 
the  entrance  to  this  home  of  death  ;  and  yet,  by  day,  it  was  a 
gay  boulevard  of  the  ever-visited  Rome. 

Close  beside  the  avenue,  exactly  by  the  brick-work  balus- 
trade of  the  Spanish  Steps,  stood  a  young  man  supporting  his 
head  upon  his  hand,  and  looking  down  over  the  city.  Was  it 
not  an  artist  who  had  lost  himself  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
beautiful  picture  of  which,  even  if  it  were  impossible  to  repre- 
sent it  in  color,  the  peculiar  joy  should  never  leave  him,  let 
Fate  conduct  him  wherever  it  might  ?  How  many  might  not 
envy  him  this  view !  Yet,  no !  he  saw  nothing.  The  wine 
which  he  this  evening  had  drunk  in  such  abundance  in  the 
Osteria  had  changed  itself  into  jesting  sprites,  some  of  whom 
hung  themselves,  like  hundred-weights,  to  his  feet ;  but  the 
heaviest  of  them  bent  down  his  head,  for  which  reason  he 
feared  to  descend  the  steep  Spanish  Steps  :  yes,  as  he  looked 
directly  down  them,  they  seemed  to  him  like  the  cascade  at 
Tivoli.  All  that  was  done  by  the  imps  of  the  wine !  He 
leaned  himself  against  the  balustrade  of  the  steps  and  slum- 
bered, as  many  another  painter  has  done  before  him,  and  many 
another  after  him  will  do. 

Naomi  observed  him.  He  wore  a  very  peculiar  cap,  and 
from  that  she  had  recognized  him  as  the  German  in  the  pro- 


270 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER  I 


cession  round  the  table  in  the  Osteria.  Only  upon  the  road 
to  Hitzing,  and  here  in  the  Osteria,  had  she  seen  this  man  j 
and  yet  she  hated  him  almost  as  much  as  she  hated  Ladislaf. 

"  If  one  were  only  now  acquainted  with  the  use  of  the  ar- 
row," thought  she,  "  what  a  good  thing  it  would  be !  The  ball 
announces  its  deed  so  noisily,  but  the  arrow  whistles  softly 
through  the  air,  and  silently  pierces  the  heart  of  the  detested 
foe.  Nobody  here  would  hear  its  flight  1  no  one  recognize  it ! 
I  wish  death  to  this  man.  And  what  then  should  I  wish  to 
Ladislaf?  " 

"Our  thoughts  are  the  blossom,  but  actions  are  the  fruit 
of  the  blossom,"  says  Bettina.  We  are  of  the  same  opinion, 
but  observe  that  not  all  blossom  arrives  at  fruit,  the  greater 
part  falls  before  its  time.  We  shall  become  acquainted  with 
the  rich  blossoms  which  in  this  night  unfolded  themselves  in 
Naomi's  soul  in  their  development,  when  the  sun  has  shone 
longer  upon  their  bloom,  and  the  area  cattiva  of  life  and  the 
sirocco  of  passion  have  paid  their  visits. 

But  for  that,  at  least,  days  are  required,  often  months  and 
years. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

M  Who  never  with  tears  hath  eaten  his  bread, 

Who  never  hath  passed  the  night's  dark  hours 
Weeping  on  poverty's  lonely  bed, 
Knoweth  you  not,  ye  heavenly  powers." 

GOETHE. 

THAT  evening  was  the  first,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
last  that  Naomi  assembled  with  the  painters  in  the  Os- 
teria.  Her  judgment  on  the  merriment  which  took  place  there 
was,  that  it  presented  a  new  edition  of  German  student-life. 
She  considered  as  much  more  beautiful  the  German  transla- 
tion of  Roman  art,  as  she  called  the  representations  which 
were  given  in  the  hotel  of  the  Austrian  Ambassador,  and  at 
which  she  had  had  a  few  opportunities  of  being  present.  As 
these  representations  had  an  influence  upon  her  after-fate  we 
will  pause  over  one  of  them,  and  will  select  the  first  which 
occurs. 

She  had  visited  every  celebrated  picture  which  exists  in  the 
churches,  convents,  or  galleries  of  Rome,  and  had  spent  whole 
hours  in  the  contemplation  of  Raphael's  sibyls  in  the  church 
of  Maria  della  Pace.  They  seemed  to  her  to  be  perfect  mas- 
terpieces, but  still  when  she  saw  the  sibyls  which  Michael  An- 
gelo  has  enchanted  on  the  walls  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  she  for- 
got those  for  these. 

Even  when  a  child,  beautiful  pictures  had  given  her  great 
delight ;  the  art  of  the  sculptor  was  a  stranger  to  her,  as  to 
most  Danes :  for  at  that  time  there  was  no  opportunity  in  our 
country  for  the  growth  of  taste  in  such  works.  Weidewelt 
was  then  a  John  in  the  wilderness. 

Naomi  had  seen,  it  is  true,  glorious  works  in  marble  in  Vi- 
enna, Lucca,  and  Bologna,  but  she  did  not  understand  how  to 
value  them  —  she  could  not  discover  the  beautiful  in  these 
works  of  art.  It  was  not  until  she  was  in  Florence  that  tho 


272  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

mist  fell  from  her  eyes  when  she  was  standing  in  the  great 
hall  there,  which  is  entirely  occupied  by  the  group  of  "  Niobe." 
In  the  middle  of  the  hall  stand  Apollo  and  Diana,  who  hurl 
the  deadly  shafts  ;  and  round  about,  along  the  walls,  sink 
down  and  lie  the  already  dying  children  of  Niobe,  who  have 
been  struck  by  the  arrows.  On  the  right,  in  the  furthest  dis- 
tance, stands  the  despairing  mother,  spreading  out  her  gar 
ment  over  the  last,  yet  spared  daughter.  One  sees  that  the 
arrow  is  directed  at  the  hand  of  the  child,  and  that  by  the 
position  of  the  hand  the  arrow  must  strike.  The  spectator 
thus  finds  himself  in  the  middle  of  the  group,  and  seized 
upon  by  terror  and  admiration  at  the  same  time.  It  was  this 
group  which  gave  intellectual  power  of  sight  to  the  eyes  of 
Naomi.  She  had  lingered  here  for  whole  hours ;  the  soul- 
captivating  magnificence  here  moved  her  much  more  than  the 
view  of  the  Medician  Venus  in  her  pure,  ideal  beauty.  And 
when  now,  still  later,  she  had  studied  the  treasures  of  art  in 
the  Vatican,  she  had  raised  herself  to  that  higher  degree  of 
knowledge  in  which  she  valued  more  highly  the  works  of  the 
sculptor  than  the  painter  There  was  that  in  her  character 
which  made  her  prefer  the  strongly  marked  works  of  a  Dom- 
enichino  to  the  soft,  languishing  ones  of  a  Raphael.  Thus 
was  she  more  attracted  by  the  "  St.  Jerome  "  of  the  first  than 
by  the  charming  "  Psyche  "  of  the  latter.1 

There  was  given  in  the  house  of  the  Austrian  Ambassador 
a  combination  of  tableaux  parlants,  and  that  which  Fetis  gives 
to  the  Parisians,  and  calls  Concert  historique,  that  is  to  say, 
the  ancient  music  of  various  centuries,  together  with  the  cos- 
tume accordant  with  the  time.2  Among  the  tableaux,  that 

1  Both  these  celebrated  pictures  are  in  the  Vatican. 

2  Each  division  of  the  subject  was  opened  by  a  treatise  on  the  music  of 
the  century,  let  it  be  of  whatever  kind  it  might,  whether  church  music,  con- 
cert, or  vocal  music.     In  order  to  make  this  more  intelligible  to  the  hon- 
ored reader,  we  will  give  here  a  few  portions  of  a  concert  of  this  kind  which 
was  given  in  the  year  1833  :  — 

(a)  Villanella,  a  quatre  voix,  chante*e  dans  les  se're'nades  Napolitaines, 
1520. 

(b)  Chansons  fra^aises,  a  quatre  et  cinq  voix,  par  C'ement  Sannequin, 
1530. 

(c )  Ave  Maria,  a  six  voix,  par  Nicholas  Gombert,  maitre  de  chapelk 
de  1'Empereur  Charles  V.,  1520.  —  Author's  Note. 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  273 

especially  out  of  the  Palazzo  Rospigliosi  produced  great  ef- 
fect. It  was  the  "  David  "  of  Domenichino,  who  returns  trium- 
phantly with  the  head  of  Goliath ;  a  page  bears  the  bloody 
head,  and  the  daughters  of  the  country  come  out  to  meet  the 
hero  with  cymbals  and  lutes. 

The  next  time  the  curtain  was  drawn  aside  Naomi  was 
seen  standing  there  in  a  white  dress,  with  a  large  transparent 
veil  in  her  hand  wherewith  to  robe  herself,  and  showed  how 
exquisitely  she  had  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  works  of  the 
sculptor,  and  how  high  a  degree  of  personal  beauty  and  of 
intellect  she  possessed,  by  means  of  which  she  could  represent 
their  living  images. 

She  seized  the  tambourine,  threw  the  veil  around  her,  raised 
the  one  foot,  and  every  person  recognized  and  admired  Terp- 
sichore as  she  stands  among  the  Muses  in  the  Vatican. 

She  now  spread  out  the  veil  as  if  for  shelter ;  pain,  and  the 
terror  of  death  were  expressed  in  her  countenance.  It  was 
the  Niobe,  only  somewhat  more  youthful  than  the  artist  had 
made  her. 

She  then  kneeled  ;  the  veil  fell  behind  down  the  back ;  the 
feet  were  covered,  and  the  breast  rested  upon  the  beautiful 
arms :  it  was  the  Egyptian  Sphinx,  yet  not  as  the  marble  gives 
her,  but  the  living  Sphinx  itself,  doubly  terrific  from  the  stonily 
cold  glances. 

Each  new  plastic  representation  called  forth  a  burst  of 
applause,  a  rapture  which  sprang  from  the  natural  impulse  to 
give  expression  to  the  feelings.  The  Count  himself  was 
imazed  at  Naomi's  talent,  which  she  had  been  able  to  culti- 
vate so  quietly.  The  Marquis  loved  her,  and  was  himself 
.onscious  of  this  love ;  his  eye  beamed,  but  his  admiration 
vas  silent. 

Now  again  she  rose,  raised  her  arms  aloft,  and  bowed  her 
head  forward.  It  was  the  Caryatide ;  tie  heavy  burden  lay 
evidently  on  the  beautiful  shoulders. 

Then  she  was  Galatea,  before  the  kiss  of  Pygmalion  had 
animated  her.  The  transition  to  life  was  extraordinarily  de- 
ceptive ;  the  eye  without  the  power  of  vision  received  life  \ 
the  first  faint  movement  was  visible  ;  the  smile  of  the  lips  was 
enchanting. 

18 


274  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

At  length  the  curta.n  fell. 

Ah  !  that  had  been  an  evening  of  happiness  and  joy !  Like 
the  mild  breath  of  the  southern  air  its  incense  enwrapped  the 
delighted  Naomi. 

But  in  Denmark,  in  the  mean  time,  the  cold  wind  sped  over 
the  snow  and  whistled  at  Christian's  window,  whilst  the 
mother  grew  sick  in  the  little  chamber  with  care  and  sorrow. 
Do  not  all  of  us  know  care  and  sorrow  ?  —  yet  dost  thou 
know  the  sorrow  of  poverty  ?  Didst  thou  ever  see  the  with- 
ered hand,  which  attempts  to  conceal  the  half-naked  body 
with  its  poor  garments  ?  the  hungry  lips,  which  smile  because 
they  can  no  longer  beg  ? 

"  I  have  good  friends,"  thought  Christian,  "  and  friends  help 
in  need  ! " 

Yes,  yes !  in  spring,  when  the  earth  is  wet  and  moist,  the 
brook  also  is  plentifully  supplied  with  water ;  but  in  summer, 
when  the  earth  is  in  need  of  moisture,  then  is  the  brook  dried 
up,  and  thou  findest  therein  only  hard  burning  stones. 

A  poor  youth  sat  upon  the  steps  of  the  royal  lackey's 
house ;  the  bitterest  poverty  was  inscribed  upon  his  dress  as 
well  as  upon  his  countenance.  Beside  him  stood  a  jar,  in 
which  was  broken  meat ;  he  put  some  of  it  on  a  plate  that  he 
might  carry  it  more  easily.  A  beautiful  lap-dog,  which  had 
been  washed  and  combed,  and  wore  a  gay  collar,  tripped  down 
the  steps,  stood  still,  and  smelt  at  the  jar. 

"  That  is  no  eating  for  thee,  thou  genteel  dog !  thou  art 
accustomed  to  that  which  is  better;  this  is  only  a  beggar's 
meal ! "  And  he  took  up  the  jar,  and,  concealing  it  as  well  as 
he  could  under  his  worn-out  coat,  he  carried  it  up  into  the 
garret  to  his  sick  mother. 

"  My  son,  I  shall  die  !  "  said  the  invalid.  "  But  Death  has 
his  whims  ;  he  at  least  comes  where  he  is  called  for.  And  is 
not  the  world  also  so  beautiful  ?  Yes,  life  is  a  glorious  gift  of 
God  ;  and  they  only  can  consider  it  as  the  fountain  of  all  suf- 
fering and  of  every  misery,  whose  eyes  rest  alone  on  its  dark 
rr  oments  —  on  the  crushed  worm  and  the  nipped-off  flower. 
A  worm  is  crushed,  a  flower  perishes,  and  the  sun  shines 
through  the  whole  of  nature  on  millions  of  happy  creatures 
the  birds  sing,  the  flowers  send  forth  odor  *;  — 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER t 


275 


We  will  not  gaze  upon  this  suffering  and  this  misery ;  we 
will  speed  away  over  a  long  space  of  time  We  will  take  a 
bold  leap  in  the  life's  history  of  Naomi  and  Christian,  not  to 
spring  over  single  points  in  them,  but  that  we  may  collect  them 
into  a  whole,  and  be  able  to  observe  them  from  a  better  point 
of  view. 

Dost  thou  hear,  friendly  reader,  the  strokes  of  the  whirling 
wheel  as  the  years  vanish  ?  Twelve  long  years  were  over 
and  gone  since  Christian  sat  in  his  garret  by  the  bed  of  his 
sick  mother ;  twelve  years  have  sped  on  triumphantly  since 
Naomi  enchanted  every  one  as  Terpsichore,  Niobe,  the  Sphinx, 
the  Caryatide,  and  Galatea. 

We  are  in  Paris.  The  tricolored  flag  waves  upon  the  pillar 
of  the  Vendome  ;  before  the  shops  caricatures  are  hanging  of 
the  self-elected  citizen-king,  the  prudent,  world-experienced 
Louis  Philippe.  It  was  in  the  beg  inning  of  the  year  1833. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

M  Paris  with  ils  Parisians  is  the  most  beautiful  abode  here  below.  Paris 
Is  the  only  place  in  the  world,  where  it  is  allowed  to  live  after  one's  own 
inclination."  —  A  Gentleman's  Perspective. 

.    .    .     "  Alle  fare  vild,  og  Alle  drukne 

I  Lidenskabens  Hav,  og  Alle  see 

Af  endelig  Forblindelse  bestukne, 

Snart  afet  daarlight  Haab,  snartaf  en  falsk  Idee." 

H.  HERTZ. 

WE  are  in  Paris.  Come  !  we  leave  our  room  and  de- 
scend the  smooth  steps  of  the  hotel.  Light-footed 
gargons  slip  past  us  —  they  go  out  to  wait;  pretty  grisettes 
meet  us  in  the  court ;  they  lodge  here  at  night,  and  now  they 
are  going  out,  the  charming  girls !  to  serve  in  shops,  or  else 
to  their  dress-making  business.  The  porter  greets  us;  and  now 
we  are  in  the  street,  which  swarms  with  people  and  with  car- 
riages of  all  kinds,  and  in  which  the  houses,  up  to  the  very 
jar-shaped  chimneys,  are  painted  over  with  names,  signs,  and 
letters  an  ell  long,  in  all  the  colors  of  a  harlequin.  The  car- 
riages sweep  past  close  by  the  houses ;  old  women  are  sing- 
ing airs  from  Be'ranger ;  an  unknown  person  sticks  a  note  into 
your  hand,  which  you  must  either  throw  away  again  or  quickly 
conceal.  All  around  hang  beautiful  copperplate  engravings 
and  lithographs,  but  we  counsel  you  not  to  look  at  them.  If 
you  be  a  zealous  Royalist,  a  horror  will  come  over  you  at  the 
daring  caricatures  which  here  hang  out  publicly.  We  now 
enter  a  passage  that  is  called  a  street,  provided  with  a  glass 
roof.  Here  are  shops  of  two  stories  high  on  each  side,  and 
Mttle  passages  branch  off  like  side  streets  from  the  greater 
one.  In  cold  and  rain  you  find  a  shelter  here,  and  when  it 
is  evening  hundreds  of  gas-lamps  change  the  night  into  day, 
and  you  may  find  in  these  handsome  shops  everything  that 
you  need,  and  which  are  always  able  to  gladden  the  heart  of 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  2*7 

man.  If  you  are  tired  of  rambling  about,  the  omnibuses  are 
rolling  through  the  streets  ;  thus  you  can  drive  away  to  the 
Cimetiere  du  Pere  la  Chaise,  where,  if  you  are  romantic,  you 
must  kneel  on  the  grave  of  Abelard  and  He'loi'se  ;  but  if  you 
are  a  manufacturer,  drive  on  yet  further  to  the  carpet  manu- 
factory of  the  Gobelins  ;  a  pious  soul,  to  the  island  in  the 
old  Mdtropolitaine  de  Notre  Dame,  —  but  you  will  find  it 
empty,  and  only  priests  wandering  about  with  the  vessels  of 
incense  :  a  beggar  before  the  door  is  its  entire  community. 
The  Parisians  have  at  this  moment  no  religion  ;  they  have 
forgotten  the  Madonna,  nay,  almost  the  Father  and  the  Son  : 
mind  is  the  only  ruling  power  amongst  them.  You  no  longer 
see  any  monks  in  the  streets,  no  processions  ;  and  even  from 
the  stage  the  poet  preaches  Protestantism.  You  see  in  "Robert 
le  Diable  "  the  ruins  of  a  nunnery  in  the  middle  of  a  Catholic 
city  ;  the  moon  peeps  into  the  dark  halls,  where  stand  over- 
turned monuments.  Suddenly  lights  burn  in  the  old  brass 
chandeliers ;  sarcophagi  open  and  the  dead  nuns  ascend  out 
of  their  graves  :  they  float  from  the  church-yard  by  hundreds, 
and  seem  only  lightly  to  touch  the  earth  —  like  shadows  they 
float  past  each  other.  Anon  and  the  winding-sheets  fall  off, 
and  now  they  stand  there  in  luxurious  beauty ;  and  the  bac- 
chanal, as  it  was  carried  on  in  the  concealment  of  their  con- 
vent walls,  begins.  In  the  Catholic  city  you  observe  these 
signs  of  the  times.  Notice  the  stir  in  the  streets  :  women  of- 
fer liquorice-water  cheap,  men  offer  you  walking-sticks  :  but 
they  all,  great  and  small,  bear  the  tricolor.  Even  their  Henri 
Quatre,  the  bronze  king  upon  the  great  bridge,  must  bear  the 
citizen-flag  which  waves  on  all  towers  and  facades.  "  La  Lib- 
erte  I "  that  is  the  great  watch-word  of  the  Parisians. 

We  are  now  in  the  middle  of  Paris,  in  the  world-renowned 
Palais  Royal,  —  it  colonnades  inclose  us.  Under  the  thinly 
leaved  trees,  sit  a  little  knot  of  Danes;  they  draw  a  par- 
allel between  the  view  before  them  and  the  representation  of 
the  same  upon  the  Copenhagen  theatre  in  vaudevilles.  The 
reality  exceeds  the  mere  imitation.  Flower-girls  offer  you  roses ; 
'adies  with  waving  feathers,  accompanied  by  the  old  mama  — 
so  she  is  here  called  —  distribute  their  glances.  Among  these 
Danes  there  is  one  who  is  here  for  the  first  time,  —  an  acquaint' 
ance  of  ours.  Thev  all  tell  him  what  he  ought  to  see  first 


278  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

"  Taglioni !  "  said  one  :  "  you  should  see  her  as  Natalie  and 
as  the  Sylph.  That  is  dancing  !  She  raises  herself  like  a 
bird,  and  then  sinks  down  again  like  a  floating  soap-bubble  !  " 

"  You  should  go  to  Versailles  !  "  said  another ;  "  should 
go  when  the  water  plays!  —  And  do  not  forget  the  Theatre 
Franc,ais  !  " 

"  I  will  see  everything  which  is  to  be  seen,"  said  the  newly 
arrived  one.  "  I  especially  delight  myself  with  the  debates 
in  the  Chambers  of  Deputies  and  of  Peers.  I  have  letters 
of  introduction  to  the  Marquis  Rebard.  Is  this  gentleman 
known  to  you  ? " 

"I  go  sometimes  to  his  house,"  replied  one 'of  the  com 
pany ;  "  his  wife  is  from  Denmark,  as  far  as  I  know,  but  a 
complete  Frenchwoman  —  a  most  charming  and  interesting 
woman  of  the  world.  I  am  invited  by  the  Marquis  this  even- 
ing, to  be  present  at  the  great  opera.  If  you  will  allow  it  I 
will  introduce  you  to  him  in  his  box." 

"  I  am  infinitely  obliged  to  you,  but  I  have  got  a  ticket  for 
the  Theatre  du  Palais  Royal,  where  I  shall  see  Demoiselle 
Dejazet  in  the  vaudeville,  '  Sous  Cfe/' " 

"  We  can  visit  them  both ;  go  and  see,  first  of  all,  'Sous  Cfi,' 
and  then  go  to  the  great  opera." 

The  countrymen  separated.  The  one  would  be  so  fortunate 
as  to  hear  Grisi  —  la  bella  divina,  as  he  called  her ;  the  other 
was  to  go  to  M.  Comte's  theatre,  where  children  acted,  that 
he  might  see  that  most  charming  child  which  would  soon 
grow  up  and  obtain  his  heart.  Our  two  gentlemen  wandered 
into  the  theatre  of  the  Palais  Royal,  to  see  the  youthful  De- 
jazet in  a  vaudeville  which  could  not  be  given  among  us. 
The  one  who  acted  as  guide  was  an  officer  in  the  Danish  ser- 
vice. 

After  this  piece  the  two  gentlemen  went  from  the  lesser  to 
the  greater  theatre,  the  Acaddmie  Royale  du  Musique,  where 
at  that  time  Nourrit  and  Damoreau  transported  everybody 
with  their  voices,  and  where  now  the  newly  arrived  Dane  was 
to  be  introduced  to  the  Marquis  and  the  Marquise,  his  coun- 
trywoman, at  which  he  smiled  very  strangely. 

There  was  given  in  the  great  opera  this  evening  no  one  en- 
tire piece,  but,  as  is  often  the  case,  acts  from  various  operas, 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER!  279 

The  second  act  of  "  William  Tell "  was  just  ended  ;  they  were 
at  the  finale  of  Comte  d'Ory,  and  the  second  act  of  the  ballet 
"  La  Tentation  "  was  to  follow. 

The  two  Danes  ascended  the  broad  and  commodious  stair 
case,  and  went  through  the  magnificent  illuminated  saloon, 
where  the  glare  of  the  light  was  thrown  back  from  looking- 
glass  covered  walls  across  the  spacious  corridor,  and  entered 
the  box  of  the  Marquis.  Several  elegant  gentlemen,  so  ele- 
gant that  they  might  have  served  for  models  of  the  newest 
fashion,  stood  behind  the  ladies,  who  were  dressed  as  if  for  a 
ball.  The  concluding  chorus  resounded,  the  curtain  fell ; 
and  now  venders  wandered  about  and  mounted  to  the  boxes 
and  to  the  pit,  and  cried  out  with  loud  voices,  "L'orguet  du 
marchand !  Voilct,  I 'Entr'acte!  Vert-vert  I  Voilct  le  pro- 
gramme f  la  piece  !  "  The  clock  above  the  proscenium  showed 
the  hour  of  nine. 

The  Marquis,  whom  we  have  not  seen  since  he  was  in 
Rome,  twelve  years  ago,  received  the  two  strangers  with 
French  politeness.  The  handsome,  stout  lady,  with  dark 
intelligent  eyes  and  royal  bearing,  saluted  with  her  fan  the 
newly  arrived  gentleman,  who  was  presented  to  her  as  captain 
of  a  Danish  regiment,  He  was  a  native  of  Holstein  ;  the 
Marquise  was  acquainted  with  him  :  she,  indeed,  had  once  re- 
ceived his  homage  in  Denmark ;  had  driven  with  him  out  of 
the  gate  of  Copenhagen  to  see  the  handsome  Ladislaf,  who 
was  now  forgotten.  The  same  recollections,  no  doubt,  were 
awakened  in  both  of  them  as  they  conversed  together,  although 
it  was  quite  on  other  subjects.  They  recognized  each  other 
by  their  names.  A  convulsive  trembling  with  the  eyelashes 
was  now  the  only  movement  which  betrayed  Naomi's  feelings  ; 
the  next  moment  she  was  again  the  Marquise,  the  woman  of 
the  world.  Perhaps,  also,  this  slight  agitation  might  be  merely 
accidental :  but  the  Dane,  the  former  lover,  had  observed  it. 
The  whole  conversation  was  carried  on  in  French ;  Naomi's 
countryman  prayed  her  to  introduce  him  to  the  fragment  of 
Ihe  ballet  which  was  to  be  given. 

"  The  principal  thing  is  that  which  is  to  be  seen,  the  treat- 
ing of  it  is  very  insignificant  It  is  the  history  of  the  holy 
Anthony  and  his  temptations  The  second  and  the  third  acts 
are  given,  and  you  will  see  Taglioni." 


2go  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

In  the  first  act  of  the  Temptation  one  is  in  a  wild  mountain 
region,  in  which  the  holy  Anthony  has  chosen  his  abode ;  his 
couch  is  a  straw  mat.  High  up  among  the  mountains  a 
marriage  procession  is  seen  to  move  along,  and  the  sound  of 
their  singing  is  heard.  Anthony  listens  and  thinks  upon 
worldly  joys  and  their  felicity.  A  female  pilgrim  brings  to 
him  fruit  and  wine  ;  at  first  he  refuses  them  both,  but  hunger 
and  thirst  induce  him  to  partake  of  them  :  the  wine  heats  his 
blood  —  he  drinks  again  —  he  empties  the  cup,  and  becomes 
intoxicated.  The  blood  now  glows  and  riots  in  his  veins  ;  he 
seizes  the  saintly  maiden  who  had  brought  him  the  wine,  but 
she  starts  back  with  horror.  His  eyes  burn,  he  stretches  out 
his  arms  to  take  hold  on  her,  when  suddenly  the  image  of  the 
Madonna  raises  its  arm  and  Anthony  is  struck  by  a  flash  of 
lightning.  Black,  fire-red  clouds,  spirits  of  the  abyss,  now  as- 
cend from  the  deep  to  seize  upon  his  soul ;  but  there  descend 
from  the  air  silver-bright  clouds  with  kneeling  angels,  in  the 
midst  of  which  stands  St.  Michael  with  his  shield.  A  combat 
now  ensues  between  the  good  and  the  bad  spirits  ;  St.  Michael 
then  raises  his  shield  to  interpose  peace,  and  permits  the  soul 
again  to  enter  the  dead  body.  It  is  granted  to  the  spirits  of 
the  under  world  after  this  to  tempt  the  reanimated,  but  if 
they  cannot  seduce  him  to  sin  against  the  Holy  One,  then  he 
is  to  belong  to  heaven.  "  He  is  ours  !  "  shout  the  evil  spirits 
exultingly  ;  "  we  will  entice  him  to  sin  !  "  The  good  angels, 
however,  intone  a  hymn,  and  Anthony  again  stands  up.  Here 
ends  the  first  act ;  the  two  following  ones  are  the  representa 
tion  of  the  Temptation  and  the  Victory  of  the  holy  Anthony. 
It  was  thus  probably  that  Naomi  introduced  her  countryman 
to  the  ballet. 

The  curtain  rolled  up,  and  the  second  act,  which  on  account 
of  its  greater  magnificence  has  kept  its  place  the  longest, 
began.  The  scene  opened  in  the  crater ;  deep  below,  in  an 
exhausted  volcano,  an  immense  flight  of  steps,  the  whole 
height  of  the  stage,  filled  the  background.  The  march  re- 
sounded ;  and  now  descended  many  hundreds  of  demons  in 
the  most  whimsical  and  fantastic  of  shapes.  Here  there  was 
a  wandering  hand,  a  torso  of  demons,  a  rolling  eye,  and  gray 
animal  forms  The  Sabbath  now  began,  the  kettle  steamed 


ONL  Y  A   FIDDLER  !  2  8 1 

upon  the  fire,  arid  every  demon  threw  in  his  gift.  The  steam 
fashioned  itself  as  it  rose  to  demon-like  shapes,  and  before 
long  a  beautiful  woman  arose  out  of  it,  —  a  child  of  the  under 
world,  who  was  destined  to  tempt  the  saint ;  an  image  of  the 
most  perfect  beauty,  as  she  once  arose  from  the  foam  of  the 
sea,  and  as  sculptors  have  created  her  from  marble.  Thus 
floated  Taglioni  among  the  demons,  who  adorned  their  child 
and  taught  her  the  use  of  the  senses.  Like  an  ethereal  being 
she  floated  around  among  the  wild  shapes,  and  the  black  curl 
which  hung  upon  her  bosom  alone  told  of  her  hellish  origin. 

In  triumph  then  ascend  the  wicked  spirits  with  her  to  the 
upper  world. 

Naomi  sat  there  as  if  lost  in  dreams ;  now  she  became 
crimson,  now  again  she  grew  pale,  and  her  eyes  closed. 

"  You  are  not  well ! "  said  the  Danish  gentleman  to  her 
softly.  She  again  cast  down  her  eyes  and  breathed  deeply. 

"  Ah,  it  is  nothing  !  "  replied  she  with  a  faint  voice.  "  I  felt 
a  kind  of  dizziness  ;  it  is  now  passed."  She  then  smiled  again 
and  said,  "  There  is  so  much  fantasy  in  the  demoniac  Sabbath 
that  one  cannot  reconcile  :  it  seems  to  be  an  entire  delirious 
dream." 

The  third  act  now  began.  The  demons  had  raised  a  castle 
—  one  could  see  through  the  window  into  the  magnificent 
saloon  ;  the  little  goblins  roasted  and  boiled,  dressed  up  as 
cooks,  in  the  kitchen  ;  all  above  danced  pretty  little  ladies.  St. 
Anthony  now  approached  :  overcome  with  hunger  and  fatigue 
he  begged  for  a  crust  of  dry  bread  and  a  draught  of  water. 
The  cook  laughed,  pointed  to  a  crucifix  which  stood  on  the 
road,  and  desired  him  to  overturn  it,  and  then  he  would  invite 
him  to  dinner  ;  but  Anthony  refuses.  Demons  then  appear 
.n  hunting-dresses  on  horseback  before  the  castle,  together 
with  the  woman  that  they  have  made  ;  and  she  also  makes 
the  same  proposal  with  the  same  promises  to  the  holy  Anthony. 
The  beautiful  woman  proffered  to  him  the  enjoyment  of  her 
whole  splendor  if  he  would  overturn  the  cross.  On  this  he 
knelt  before  the  sacred  symbol,  whilst  the  wild  song  of  the 
demons  to  the  ringing  of  their  cups  resounded  from  the  castle, 
ind  one  sees  the  tumultuous  company  from  the  windows.  The 
woman  approached  Antnony,  but  his  address  to  her  operate! 


2$2  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

apon  her  like  sunshine  upon  the  poison  plant  —  her  black 
lock  becomes  less  and  less.  The  creature  of  the  nether  world 
listened  with  intense  admiration,  and  with  human  thoughts 
and  human  feelings,  to  the  words  of  the  saint ;  and  whilst  he 
kneeling  embraced  the  cross  the  beautiful  woman  sank  into 
the  earth,  and  the  castle,  together  with  everything  which  it 
contained,  was  hurled  into  the  abyss,  out  of  which  red  flames 
sprang  forth. 

Only  these  two  acts  of  the  ballet  were  given.  "  The  holy 
man  had  such  powerful  influence  over  that  demoniac  child," 
said  Naomi,  "  that  she  also  was  fitted  for  heaven.  You  ought 
to  see  the  conclusion  of  the  ballet,  where  Anthony  belongs  to 
heaven,  and  conducts  the  dear  girl  to  bliss.  Spirits  of  hell, 
wrapped  in  burning  sulphur  clouds,  occupy  the  lowest  part  of 
the  stage ;  white  clouds  ascend,  and  then  all  is  filled  with  an- 
gels :  as  if  by  millions  one  sees  the  kneeling  groups ;  then 
the  white-garmented  grown-up  human  beings,  with  large  white 
wings  ;  then  children  ;  and  behind  these  innumerable  groups 
painted  on  the  background.  The  lighting  is  so  beautifully 
managed  that  the  eye  observes  no  transition  from  reality  to 
the  mere  appearance  ;  one  seems  to  gaze  into  infinite  heaven, 
which,  as  well  as  the  clouds,  ascends  higher  and  higher,  ever 
extending  itself  until  the  curtain  falls." 

The  party  left  the  theatre  ;  it  was  twelve  o'clock,  and  the 
Marquis  had  company  at  home,  who  were  awaiting  the  return 
of  the  host  and  hostess  from  the  opera. 

"  You  will  meet  in  the  soiree  Alexandre  Dumas,  and  some 
of  the  young  painters  who  have  become  celebrated  by  their 
decorations  for  the  Temptation,"  said  Naomi  to  her  country- 
man, as  in  going  out  she  saluted  him  with  her  fan. 

The  strangers  now  drove  to  the  hotel  of  the  Marquis,  where 
they  entered  a  magnificent  suite  of  rooms.  In  the  first  two 
lew  pictures,  by  young  artists,  were  exhibited  by  the  most  fa- 
orable  lamp-light ;  one  was  a  scene  from  Victor  Hugo's 
"Notre  Dame  de  Paris."  It  represented,  bound  to  the  pil- 
lory, Quasimodo  tormented  with  thirst  and  hunger,  and  the 
slender,  amiable  Esmeralda,  who  offers  to  the  misshapen  mon 
Iter  a  draught  of  water. 

The  second  piece  was  a  representation  of  the  concluding 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER t  383 

scene  in  Casimir  Delavigne's  last  tragedy,  "Z«  Enfans 
eFEdouard" —  the  heart-rending  scene  where  the  two  children, 
dressed,  sit  upon  their  bed  and  listen.  They  know  that  the 
murderers  will  come  to  slay  them,  but  they  know  also  that 
an  endeavor  will  be  made  to  save  them  ;  when  they  shall  hear 
the  anthem  of  "  God  save  the  King !  "  struck  up,  their  salvation 
is  at  hand.  The  song  is  heard  —  one  sees  the  smile  of  the 
younger  brother  ;  but  in  that  very  same  moment  the  door 
opens,  whilst  yet  the  song  of  deliverance  resounds.  The  two 
children  were  portraits  of  the  female  artists  Menjaud  and 
Anais. 

One  single  guest  stood  before  the  pictures,  but  the  greater 
part  of  the  company  betook  themselves  to  the  large  conversa- 
tion room,  where  the  Marquis  and  the  Marquise  received  their 
guests.  A  young  officer  spoke  of  the  siege  of  Antwerp,  an- 
other group  of  the  last  transactions  in  the  Chamber  of  Peers. 
No  mutual  introductions  took  place,  each  one  came  and  went 
according  to  his  pleasure,  and  the  whole  had  rather  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  public  than  of  a  private  saloon. 

A  young  man  of  genius  fell  into  discourse  with  the  Holstein 
officer,  and  when  he  understood  that  the  foreign  gentleman 
was  a  Dane  he  spoke  of  the  opera  of  "Gusfqf,"  which  must 
interest  him  out  love  for  his  country.  He  spoke  also  of  Ber- 
nadotte,  who  just  lately  had  been  brought  upon  the  stage  in  the 
vaudeville  "Le  Camarade  de  Lit ;  "  of  the  Danish  king,  who  had 
been  a  French  general.  That  which  related  to  the  North  was 
somewhat  apocalyptical  to  the  gentleman,  for  at  that  time 
France  had  not  sent  out  a  Marmier,  who  had  written  so  beau- 
tifully and  so  livingly  of  the  geysers  of  Iceland  and  the  Scan- 
dinavian kingdom,  with  its  rocks,  woods,  and  fragrant  plains  ; 
of  Sweden's  preponderance  in  politics,  and  Denmark's  in  the 
regions  of  science.  In  English  and  Italian  literature,  on  the 
contrary,  the  Frenchman  was  quite  at  home.  Naomi's  ex- 
adorer,  however,  made  a  face  about  this  —  we  will  not  say 
like  the  cow  before  the  painted  wall,  but  something  like  Moses 
when  his  eye  was  cast  upon  the  promised  land,  which  his  foot 
was  never  to  tread.  At  last,  however,  that  he  might  say  some- 
thing important,  he  said  "  Goethe  !  "  and  the  eyes  of  the 
Frenchman  flashed  at  the  name  of  the  German  Corneille,  the 
author  of  the  ohilosophical,  intellectual  poem  of  "  Faust" 


284  ONLY  A  FIDDLARI 

Naotri  stood  near  them,  and  assured  them  with  smiles  how 
much  she  also  admired  "Faust."  "This  fragment,"  said  she, 
"  appears  to  me  like  a  comet  created  by  astonishment,  like  a 
comet  with  an  intelligible  head,  but  which  is  followed  by  a 
Dad  tail,  that  '  is  to  be  continued,'  as  is  written  under  it.  But, 
however,  I  believe  that  people  have  given  a  higher  value  to 
this  poem  thaii  the  author  himself  did.  When  Europe  has 
once  got  to  the  end  of  writing  commentaries  on  it,  it  will  then 
also  find  time  to  look  at  other  works  of  this  kind  quite  as 
good." 

"  Goethe  belongs  no  more  to  the  living,"  returned  her  coun- 
tryman :  "  De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum  I " 

"  A  great  and  true  poet  never  dies,  and  therefore  one  may 
also  very  well  speak  of  his  faults,"  replied  Naomi,  whilst  she 
cast  a  compassionate  glance  on  her  ex-worshipper. 

The  conversation  now  again  turned  upon  Denmark  and 
Scandinavia,  and  Naomi  well  knew  how  beautifully  to  unfold 
her  idea  of  the  North  being  the  very  land  of  romance.  She 
spoke  about  the  melancholy  rocks  of  Norway  ;  of  its  foaming 
waterfalls,  which  might  match  themselves  against  those  in 
Switzerland  ;  of  its  solitary  pasture-huts  on  the  mountains,  and 
of  its  dark  pine  woods ;  she  delineated  the  beautiful  situation 
of  the  Danish  islands,  which,  she  said,  lay  like  a  blooming  la- 
goon between  the  North  Sea  and  the  Baltic ;  and  told  of  the 
ancient,  and  yet  ever-resounding  Scaldic  songs ;  of  gypsy 
people  who  lived  upon  the  heaths  of  Jutland  ;  and  of  the  soli- 
tary cairns,  and  the  fragrant  clover  and  corn-fields. 

"  Your  description,"  said  the  Frenchman,  "  as  you  give  it, 
tfould  be  a  pearl  for  our  '  Revue  Du  Nord'  " 

Naomi  smiled. 

A  gentleman  decorated  with  orders  gave  a  political  turn  to 
the  conversation  ;  and  here  also  Naomi  gave  her  views  unhes- 
itatingly, as  well  about  the  marshy  city  of  Petersburg  as  about 
the  dwarfish  tent  of  the  Arab  ;  and  only  bowed  her  head  be- 
fore Napoleon,  the  hero  of  the  age. 

"  You  have  seen  the  splendid  volcano  from  a  distance,"  said 
the  courtier,  who  knew  how  to  value  the  world-experienced 
Louis  Philippe,  and  declared  him  to  be  the  first  of  all  rulers 
who  belonged  to  the  new  age  of  mankind.  "If  your  ladyship 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  285 

had  been  a  mother,"  said  he,  "  whose  sons  had  been  torn  from 
home  —  if  you  had  seen  how  these  sons,  tied  by  the  thumb, 
had  been  driven  through  the  country  like  cattle  for  slaughter, 
you  would  have  not  have  blessed  his  name.  He  was  cold  ;  it 
was  not  alone  in  his  exterior  that  he  resembled  Nero." 

"  The  God  whom  we  all  worship,"  replied  Naomi,  "  seems 
in  his  government  of  the  world  to  have  also  his  dark  side  ; 
but  is  it  so  in  reality  ?  Napoleon  was  the  angel  with  the  flam- 
ing sword ;  he  divided  the  new  age  from  the  old.  When  the 
ploughshare  goes  over  the  field  it  cuts  through  the  roots  of  the 
Mowers,  tears  up  the  grass,  and  crushes  the  innocent  worm  ; 
but  after  this  necessary  evil  one  sees  the  rich  blessing  of  the 
harvest  wave  where  the  fear  of  death  was  felt,  and  thousands 
have  been  the  winners  !  " 

The  conversation  now  turned  to  the  politics  of  the  day,  and 
Naomi  showed  herself  more  and  more  interesting  on  every 
subject  which  she  handled.  The  card-tables  were  arranged, 
the  cards  presented.  The  Marquise  played  with  enthusiasm, 
and  was  eloquence  itself  the  while.  Puns  were  made  and  ex- 
changed ;  Naomi  was  worshipped,  and  deserved  to  be  so.  In- 
telligence and  the  happiness  of  life  spoke  in  her  dark  eyes. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  the  lights  were 
extinguished  in  the  hotel  of  the  Marquis.  Naomi  sat  in  her 
chamber  in  her  night  negligte,  with  her  cheek  resting  upon 
ier  round  arm  ;  her  long  hair  fell  over  her  shoulders  ;  her 
countenance  glowed.  She  swallowed  down  a  glass  of  iced 
water  like  one  sick  of  fever. 

"  What  a  tumult  my  blood  is  in  !  "  said  she  to  her  maid. 
"  I  am  fatigued,  and  yet  I  cannot  sleep  :  go  to  your  room." 

"  How  unfortunate  I  am  !  "  sighed  she.  "  And  why  should 
I  suffer  and  float  in  imaginary  terror,  which  increases  every 
year  ? "  She  thought  of  the  demoniac  creation  of  the  ballet- 
opera,  of  that  being  to  whom  life  and  human  feeling  were  given, 
and  she  fancied  that  she  saw  herself  in  this  being.  "  Yes,"  she 
exclaimed,  "  by  demons  was  I  called  into  this  life  !  Would 
that  all  the  past  could  crumble  into  nothing,  as  will  sometime 
be  the  case  in  death !  It  is  disease,  it  is  nothing  else  !  Every 
one  of  my  countrymen  becomes  to  me  an  instrument  of  new 
torture,  and  wy  executioner  is  here  himself !  Let  his  body 


286  ONLY  A  FIDDLER: 

perish  at  the  bottom  of  the  Seine  !  Ladislaf !  "  she  sighed 
deeply,  and  suddenly  paused.  "  I  will  not  be  my  own  tor- 
mentor !  I. will  enjoy  the  fragrance  of  this  false  life!"  She 
riveted  her  eye  upon  the  portrait  of  her  husband,  which  hung 
opposite  to  her  on  the  wall. 

"  He  smiles,"  thought  she  ;  "  I  also  will  smile,  for  my  youth- 
ful sins  are  not  greater  than  his ;  and  yet  — !  Perhaps  he 
kisses  at  this  moment  the  fair  locks  of  some  insignificant 
head  :  Grassot  has  assured  me  of  it.  O,  why  cannot  I  love 
him  ?  "  She  bowed  her  head  upon  her  wildly  agitated  bosom 
and  sat  long  silent,  sunk  in  thought  The  lamp  threw  only  a 
feeble  light.  Naomi  slept. 

The  daylight  appeared  through  the  long  curtains  before  she 
awoke  from  her  uneasy  slumber.  She  threw  herself  upon  her 
bed,  and  deceitful  dream-shapes  gamboled  around  the  sleeper 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

211e  seigna  tout  ce  sang  du  coeur  qu'on  appelle  des  larmes."  — 
mpressions  de  Voyage,  par  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS. 


DOST  thou  know  the  beautiful  Tivoli  ?  Not  the  pictur- 
esque city  which  thy  eye  perceives  among  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Roman  Campagna  :  no  !  the  garden  in  the 
Parisian  suburbs,  to  which  the  advertisements,  those  dumb 
sirens,  entice  thee  ?  Fiacre,  coucou,  and  omnibuses  will  take 
thee  to  its  entrance  for  a  few  sous,  and  for  only  three  francs  a 
Niagara  of  merriment  will  be  poured  over  thee.  Musard's  or- 
chestra played  gallopades  from  "  Gustaf"  and  "La  Tentation" 
waltzes  from  Strauss,  and  quadrilles  out  of  "Le  Philtre"  "Rob 
erf,"  and  "Pre  aux  Clercs."  For  the  same  money  two  theatres 
are  opened  to  thee  :  in  the  lesser  one  experiments  in  natural 
philosophy  are  shown  ;  in  the  larger  one  whole  vaudevilles 
are  given.  Sledges  fly  down  the  slides,  thousands  of  lamps 
burn  between  the  green  branches  ;  and  when  the  cry  is  heard, 
"Feu  d*  artifice  !"  thou  followest  the  stream  toward  the  dark- 
ened place  for  the  spectators,  where  now  the  three-hued 
rockets  change  the  night  into  bright  day. 

Thither,  into  the  noisy  vortex,  will  we  hasten  ! 

The  tricolored  lamps  threw  the  false  splendor  of  the  rain- 
bow through  the  green  branches,  music  resounded  at  a  dis- 
tance —  it  was  the  song  of  the  demons  in  "La  Tentation;"  and 
the  daughters  of  the  earth  whirled  round  in  the  circling  dance 
with  the  sons  of  rank. 

The  view  which  one  here  enjoys,  when  one  enters  the  thick 
shrubbery,  and  thence  observes  the  gay  illumination,  the 
whirling  figures,  and  the  sledges  which  slip  down  the  slides  as 
from  the  tops  of  the  trees,  is  in  fact  peculiar  of  its  sort  —  a 
nocturnal  Sabbath  of  the  Brocken. 

Did  he  indulge  in  some  such  thought  as  this,  the  man  there, 


288  ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

near  to  the  darkened  place  where  the  spectators  stood,  who 
had  to  kindle  the  fire-works  ?  He  had  just  bound  on  the  last 
rocket ;  he  seats  himself  on  the  grass  ;  the  thin,  withered 
hands  tremble  ;  his  countenance  is  yellow ;  the  blue  rings 
below  the  coal-black  eyes,  the  relaxed  features,  plainly  betray 
that  here  the  soul  only  haunts,  like  a  bat,  the  ruins  of  a  body. 

He,  from  whom  our  eyes  would  now  gladly  turn  away,  had 
once  brought  the  crimson  to  the  cheek  of  the  daughters  of 
beauty  ;  this  wrinkled  form  was  once  the  model  of  a  hero 
this  malicious  expression  in  the  eye,  the  glance  of  pride.  He, 
who  had  set  the  great  crowd  in  exultation,  now  lay  here,  sick, 
despised,  forgotten :  to  fasten  on  the  rockets  to  the  whirling 
wheel  was  his  important  business  —  he,  the  son  of  the  Pariah, 
Ladislaf ! 

When  the  enjoyment  of  life  has  unstrung  thy  nerves,  their 
sound  is  only  an  agitating  music.  It  was  their  melodies 
which  sang  to  him  the  song  which  would  last  to  coming  times. 

"  My  thoughts  flee  not  out  into  the  world  ;  they  return  back 
to  the  heavy  and  suffering  body,  which  feels  that  the  damp 
mist  hangs  in  its  wings,  and  holds  it  fettered  in  the  intoxica- 
tion of  sleep ;  it  feels  the  refreshing  breath  of  the  air.  which 
to  it  is  an  ice-cold  wind  ;  the  weak  nerves  tremble  ;  my  limbs 
quake,  my  head  is  dizzy,  and  it  is  to  me  as  if  the  wind  blew 
in  my  brain,  and  whistled  there  as  in  an  empty  snail-house. 
I  feel  only  a  desire  to  sleep,  and  yet  sleep  does  not  refresh 
my  wearied  body.  The  warmth- infusing  beams  of  the  sun 
quite  dry  me  up.  If  for  once  a  thought  should  wander  out, 
it  is  like  a  sick  man  going  on  crutches  :  the  meadows  may 
smile,  the  sun  may  give  warmth,  he  yet  hangs  upon  his 
crutches  ! " 

How  brilliant  was  this  merry  evening  in  Tivoli !  The  rich 
gave  their  louis-d'ors,  the  poor  their  sous,  and  youth  a  few 
rose-leaves  from  their  blooming  health,  that  they  too  might 
one  day  sing  the  song  of  the  raven  in  the  solitary  bushes. 

Thou  who  hast  visited  all  the  capitals  of  Europe,  and  who 
seekest  in  Paris  the  centre  of  the  peculiarities  of  all,  thou 
wilt  often  have  met  Naomi  there.  In  the  public  justiciary 
proceedings,  which  afford  to  thee  a  compensation  for  the  Span- 
ish bull-fights,  where  the  throng  is  quite  as  great  and  the 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  289 

crowd  of  richly  dressed  ladies  is  not  less,  thou  must  often 
have  remarked  her  as  one  of  the  most  zealous  of  the  listeners. 
At  the  Bicetre,  where  the  criminals,  riveted  the  one  to  the 
other,  have  been  led  to  the  galleys,  thou  hast  certainly  recog- 
nized, among  the  handsome  equipages  which  were  drawn  up 
on  the  way,  that  the  gentlefolks  might  enjoy  the  heart-rending 
view,  the  carriage  of  the  Marquise  ;  and  in  the  solitary  night, 
when  only  the  red  lamps  burned  on  which  was  inscribed,  Id  on 
loge  a  la  nutt,"  and  the  ragman  who  shuns  the  day  seeks  for 
tatters  among  the  sweepings,  thou  hast  seen  Naomi  take  a  place 
at  the  gambling-table,  where  the  gold  chinks  and  passions  ex- 
press themselves  by  the  eye. 

Outside  Paris,  Louis  Philippe  has  erected  forts  for  the  de- 
fense of  the  city,  but  the  Parisians  declare  that  these  forts 
were  only  raised  that  they  themselves  might  be  shot  therefrom. 
The  party  opposed  to  the  citizen-king  began  to  raise  their 
voice.  The  July  festival  approached  ;  the  most  audacious 
caricatures,  and  every  kind  of  jest  upon  the  festival-days,  were 
hung  out ;  but  the  wise  ruler  kept  himself  quiet  the  while,  and 
permitted  the  hot  tempers  to  relieve  themselves  by  such  like 
fire-bubbles.  It  was  expected  that  the  Egyptian  obelisk  would 
have  been  erected,  in  the  festival- days,  in  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde ;  but  that  did  not  happen,  and  instead  of  it  a  wooden 
imitation  was  placed  there.  Everything  was  prepared,  every- 
thing happened  to  make  these  three  world-famous  days  as 
festal  as  it  was  possible  they  could  be.  The  most  splendid  part 
of  the  festivities  was,  however,  the  uncovering  of  the  statue  of 
Napoleon  upon  the  Vendome  column.  Already  the  scaffolding 
was  seen  to  be  erected,  and  the  work-people  in  great  activity  ; 
in  the  night  the  statue  was  hoisted  up,  and  then  covered  with 
a  blue  veil  woven  with  silver  bees,  which  was  not  to  be  re- 
moved until  the  moment  of  the  solemn  unveiling. 

Naomi  belonged  to  the  many  who  foresaw  that  in  the  ap 
preaching  three  festival-days  a  political  storm  would  break 
out,  and  for  that  she  longed.  Only  in  the  days  of  the  Revo- 
lution, when  not  the  phantoms  of  freedom  but  the  goddess  of 
Freedom  herself  led  the  noble  French  people,  had  she  felt  her- 
self tranquil :  she  had  courageously  fired  her  pistol  out  of  hei 
'9 


ONLY  A   tlDDLER! 

window  at  the  royal  guard.     The  unrest  of  her  soul  required 
agitation  from  without,  in  order  to  find  tranquillity. 

The  three  days  were  now  at  hand,  and  brought  to  some  of  the 
daughters  of  fallen  heroes  great  joy  —  a  magnificent  dowry. 
At  sunrise  the  firing  of  cannon  from  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and 
the  Hotel  des  Invalides  sounded  as  overture  to  the  festival. 
The  tricolored  flags  waved  from  Pont  Neuf  and  all  the  church 
towers.  The  Hotel  de  Ville  and  the  Pont  d'Arcole  were 
adorned  with  trophies  and  garlands. 

Sleeplessly  listened  Naomi  to  the  firing,  suffering  as  in 
that  night  in  the  Prater,  as  in  that  night  in  Rome,  and  ah  !  as 
in  so  many  other  nights  in  animated  Paris.  Large  sums  of 
money,  drawn  in  advance  from  her  allowance,  were  lost  at  play. 
Ladislaf  was  here,  and  a  countryman  of  hers  who  knew  her 
connections. 

Upon  the  site  of  the  former  Bastile,  by  the  Fontaine  des 
Innocens,  and  before  the  Louvre,  catafalques  were  erected, 
which  were  hung  with  crape  and  ornamented  with  banners, 
garlands  of  everlastings,  and  celebrated  names ;  mourning 
music  played,  and  each  quarter  of  an  hour  cannon  were  fired. 
Unusual  stillness  reigned  in  the  otherwise  so  noisy  Paris. 
The  carriages  drove  at  a  foot's  pace,  as  in  a  mourning  pro- 
cession ;  the  foot-passengers  went  slowly  across  the  place  of 
mourning,  and  threw  their  bouquets  upon  the  graves. 

Naomi  drove  in  an  open  carriage.  They  who  walked 
were  crushed  against  the  wheels ;  sometimes  one  among  them 
held  himself  fast  by  the  carriage.  She  felt  that  some  one 
touched  her  hand  :  a  little  billet  was  thrust  into  it ;  she  saw 
near  her  not  a  single  face  which  she  knew. 

In  the  evening,  when  the  long  black  cloths  waved  before 
the  houses  in  which  the  connections  and  friends  of  the  fallen 
heroes  of  freedom  lived,  and  the  blue  fires  burned  upon  the 
graves,  Naomi  read  the  billet  which  she  had  received  :  it  was 
from  Ladislaf.  He  had  inquired  after  her  in  her  hotel,  but 
had  been  repulsed ;  he  earnestly  besought  for  an  interview 
with  her,  and  reminded  her  maliciously  of  happy  hours  whicli 
they  had  spent. 

"  How  many  persons  were  found  murdered  in  Paris  and  itt 
luburbs  last  year  ?  "  asked  Naomi  of  her  maid. 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  t 

*'  Three-and-twenty,  as  I  believe,  were  murdered  and  thrown 
into  the  Seine.  It  is  horrible  !  "  replied  the  girl. 

"  The  Parisians  have  southern  blood,"  resumed  Naomi 
"  Is  everything  quiet  ?  " 

"  Everything,"  said  the  girl ;  "  but  I  have  a  horror  of  the 
festival-days." 

"  So  have  I,"  replied  Naomi  thoughtfully ;  and  her  mind 
dwelt  upon  Ladislaf. 

In  the  "  Thousand  and  One  Nights  "  there  is  a  description 
of  a  palm-tree,  in  the  summit  of  which  the  rich  treasure  is  hid- 
den which  has  to  be  found.  Every  one  may  ascend  it,  says  the 
story ;  the  broad  leaves  bend  themselves  obligingly  aloft ;  but 
if  you  look  back  and  wish  to  descend,  every  leaf  is  changed 
into  a  sharp  and  strong  knife,  which,  if  you  are  not  pure  and 
innocent,  thrusts  itself  into  your  limbs.  This  image  floated 
before  the  eyes  of  Naomi. 

"  Every  little  sin  was  to  me  once  a  green,  fragrant  leafj 
which  bowed  itself  to  my  hands,"  sighed  she  ;  "  now  it  is  like 
the  knife  of  the  executioner  as  I  look  back.  O,  I  am  as  ill 
as  the  old  Countess  in  Denmark  —  a  nervous,  sick  person ; 
and  that  is  the  most  painful  of  all  sicknesses  !  " 

The  second  day  of  the  festival  was  come.  The  long 
Boulevard  was  the  parade  of  the  national  guard ;  along  the 
green  alleys  stood  the  well-dressed  rows  of  people,  and  all  the 
windows  and  balconies  of  the  houses  which  lay  behind  were 
filled,  like  the  Boulevards  themselves,  with  human  beings  ; 
vild  boys  hung  on  the  branches  of  the  trees,  others  balanced 
themselves  on  the  stone  balustrades  of  the  fountain.  Every- 
where was  the  throng  as  great  as  in  one  of  the  most  frequented 
passages. 

Louis  Philippe,  surrounded  by  his  sons  and  his  generals, 
showed  himself;  he  extended  his  hand,  and  kindly  saluted 
his  citizens.  A"  Vive  le  ^//"resounded,  amid  which  was 
heard,  "  A  bas  les  forts  I " 

The  blue  veil  covered  with  the  silver  bees  still  lay  over  the 
statue  of  Napoleon  upon  the  Vendome  column  ;  windows  and 
roofs  were  filled  with  people ;  the  king  and  the  dignitares  of  the 
kingdom  stood  with  bare  heads  before  the  column :  the  sign 
was  given,  and  the  veil  fell 


292  ONLY  A  FILLLER! 

"Vive  la  M'emoire  de  Napotion  /"  was  the  cry  of  admiration 

"  Ou  roulent  les  cannons,  ou  les  legions  passent  1  — 
Le  peuple  est  un  mer  aussi ! " 

Naomi's  eye  fell  upon  the  moving  mass  of  human  beings, 
and  she  saw,  standing  below  her  window,  between  the  casks 
turned  upside-down,  which  people  hired  as  charming  places, 
Ladislaf,  —  the  emaciated,  sick  Ladislaf.  He  fixed  his  eye  upon 
her  and  smiled  with  a  demon-like  expression,  like  the  fiends 
in  the  ballet ;  he  spread  out  his  left  hand,  and  with  the  fore- 
finger of  his  right  hand  made  the  movement  of  writing  in  it. 

Naomi  stepped  back.  The  review  would  occupy  several 
hours,  and  the  most  magnificent  part  of  the  show  was  really 
over,  said  she,  as  she  took  the  arm  of  her  husband.  They 
left  the  house,  but  they  were  only  able  to  go  out  by  the  back 
door,  and  they  therefore  chose  this  way.  An  old  woman 
passed  them  on  the  ground-floor ;  she  thrust  a  note  in  the 
hand  of  the  Marquis,  and  he  concealed  it.  Naomi  observed 
it  all. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day  a  great  concert,  consisting  of  five 
hundred  hautboys  and  three  hundred  tambourines,  was  to  be 
given  in  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries  ;  a  sea-fight  was  to  take 
place  on  the  Seine,  between  illuminated  ships ;  the  contours 
of  cupolas  and  towers  showed  themselves  in  a  blaze  of  light, 
and  the  most  magnificent  fire-works  were  exhibited. 

"  Noisy  as  this  music,  flaring  as  these  lights,  is  human  life  ! " 
thought  Naomi  to  herself.  "  Why  then  should  I  torment  my- 
self? my  husband  is  a  greater  sinner  than  myself.  I  will  take 
him  to  task  about  the  contents  of  that  letter ;  for  one  minute, 
at  least,  he  shall  experience  my  pangs." 

Without  all  was  pure  jubilation  ;  stormy  music  and  dazzling 
light.  Naomi  stood  in  her  room  and  looked  across  the  Seine 
to  the  cupola  of  the  Hospital  of  Invalids,  which  was  as  brilliant 
as  that  of  St.  Peter's  on  the  holy  Easter  Eve.  She  sighed 
deeply. 

"  I  cannot  show  the  letter ;  it  might  disturb  your  peace," 
her  husband  had  said,  as  she  questioned  him  regarding  its 
contents.  "  He  was  embarrassed,"  continued  she  to  herselC 
"  The  Marquise  might  not  read  the  beautiful  handwriting  of 
the  blonde  lady !  All  men  are  like  him,  therefore  I  will,  foi 
once,  be  like  other  women." 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

Her  maid  brought  in  the  new  ball-dress.  On  the  following 
evening  there  was  to  be  a  great  banquet  and  splendid  ball 
given  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  to  which  people  of  all  conditions, 
from  the  fishwoman  to  the  queen  of  the  land,  had  free  en- 
trance. 

"  To-morrow  I  will  be  beautiful  !  "  said  Naomi :  "  you  must 
try  your  whole  skill ;  bring  all  my  jewels  to  me,  and  my  pearls. 
The  fair-haired  lady  will  also  be  at  the  ball,"  thought  she, "  un- 
pretending, amiable,  and  innocent,  as  the  novels  say." 

It  was  the  third  and  the  last  day  of  the  festival.  Naomi 
and  the  Marquis  drove  to  the  Champs  Elyse'es,  which  in  their 
whole  extent,  even  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  de  1'Etoile,  was 
filled  with  people.  In  Paris  itself,  on  this  day,  the  theatres 
were  thrown  open  ;  and  in  the  Champs  Elyse'es,  music,  swing- 
ing, and  every  kind  of  exhibition  was  gratis.  Two  companies 
of  horse-riders  gave  in  their  circuses,  in  the  open  air,  alternate 
representations.  It  was  many  years  since  Naomi  had  been 
present  at  any  exhibitions  of  this  kind,  nor  had  she  any  desire 
to  see  these  ;  but  the  Marquis  wished  it,  and  praised  so  highly 
a  young  lady-rider  of  scarcely  sixteen,  that  she  was  at  last  pre- 
vailed upon  to  go.  She  felt  herself  urged  on ;  she  laughed, 
and  threw  out  jeering  hints  about  the  note  of  yesterday. 
"  Married  people  should  not  have  any  secrets  with  each 
other,"  said  she  ;  "  not  even  as  regards  little  sins." 

The  Marquis  looked  fixedly  at  her ;  she  smiled,  and  fancied 
that  she  saw  embarrassment  in  his  countenance,  and  now  her 
eloquence  had  met  with  a  desired  subject.  All  around  them 
reigned  pleasure  ;  four  orchestras  were  playing ;  in  vain  poor 
fellows  climbed  up  the  greasy  poles,  the  mdt  de  cocagne,  to 
reach  the  enticing  prize. 

One  of  the  tournaments  on  the  Seine  now  drew  the  crowd 
away.  Boats  maneuvered  one  against  another ;  on  the  bows 
of  each  stood  a  sailor,  dressed  in  red  and  blue,  the  point  of 
whose  lance,  however,  instead  of  being  sharp,  was  furnished 
with  a  round  plate,  with  which  he  endeavored  to  push  his 
adversary  overboard.  Whoever  fell  into  the  water  was  obliged 
o  swim  to  land,  amid  the  triumphs  and  laughter  for  the  con 
|ueror. 

Naomi's  eyes  glanced  uneasily  around  amid  the  crowd  ;  she 


294  ONLY  A   rTDDLER! 

had  no  thoughts  for  all  this  merry-making :  the  Marquis,  on 
the  contrary,  interested  himself  very  much  \  his  eye  followed 
every  turn  which  the  boats  made. 

"  A  heart  full  of  sins,  to  be  so  calm !  "  thought  Naomi,  as 
she  glanced  on  all  sides  to  see  if  her  eye  could  not  discover 
either  fair  or  black  locks. 

At  dinner  Naomi  drank  with  smiles  to  the  health  of  all 
blonde  ladies. 

And  now  her  toilet  awaited  her.  Bird-of-paradise  plumes 
waved  in  her  splendid  turban ;  diamonds  glittered  on  her 
beautiful  bosom ;  she  looked  at  herself,  well  pleased,  in  her 
dressing-glass. 

Some  one  knocked  at  the  chamber  door.  The  waiting- 
woman  received  a  letter  for  her  mistress ;  it  was  from  the 
Marquis.  The  letter  contained  only  two  lines,  Naomi's  own 
words  of  the  forenoon,  "  Married  people  should  have  no  se- 
crets with  each  other,  not  even  as  regards  little  sins."  This 
inclosed  a  note,  the  self-same  which  the  Marquis  had  con- 
cealed ;  it  was  from  Ladislaf.  Everything  was  set  down  in 
this  letter,  from  the  first  kiss  until  the  stroke  with  the  switch  — 
he  had  maliciously  laid  every  secret  open  to  the  light. 

"  This  is  done  out  of  revenge,"  was  written  there ;  "  she 
repulsed  me  as  I  begged  before  her  door ;  she  is  happy,  I  am 
in  misery,  as  one  says ;  I  swear  by  the  holy  sacrament  that 
every  word  which  I  have  written  is  the  truth." 

Naomi  turned  pale.  "  Now  there  is  an  end  of  all  1 "  thought 
she. 

"  The  carriage  is  at  the  door  —  the  Marquis  waits  ; "  was 
announced  to  her. 

She  was  ready  to  drop.  The  satin  rustled,  the  diamonds 
sparkled.  The  Marquis  conducted  her  to  the  step  of  the 
carriage  ;  two  gentlemen,  friends  of  the  family,  were  in  com- 
pany with  them.  The  conversation  turned  on  ordinary  things, 
and  the  Marquis  was  quite  good-humored. 

The  streets  resounded  with  huzzas,  all  the  towers  and  cupo« 
las  were  illuminated  on  this  evening  also.  The  carriage  drew 
up  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  they  alighted.  The  steps  were 
ornamented  with  gay  carpets  and  fragrant  flowers,  and  the  two 
dancing-halls  in  the  second  story  were  connected  by  a  hang- 


ONL  Y  A  FIDDLER  t  295 

ing-garden,  which  went  obliquely  across  the  court ;  orange- 
trees  and  colored  lamps  adorned  it,  and  garlanded  the  fountain 
which  had  been  placed  in  the  centre,  from  which  streamed  eau 
de  Cologne.  In  the  largest  saloon,  in  which  the  royal  throne 
was  erected,  were  raised  on  each  side  amphitheatre-like  ter- 
races, with  footstools.  Here  sat  the  festally  attired  ladies,  the 
wives  of  the  citizens  and  the  peers,  side  by  side,  presenting 
the  gay  appearance  of  a  flower-garden. 

The  music  of  the  full  orchestra  sounded ;  the  floor  was  all 
astir ;  and  on  all  sides  shone  eye-glasses,  which  were  directed 
to  the  ladies.  It  is  true  that  Naomi  could  no  longer  count 
herself  as  one  of  the  young  ladies,  but  still  she  possessed  a 
fullness  of  beauty  which,  in  connection  with  the  exquisite  taste 
of  her  dress,  made  her  an  object  of  admiration  and  homage* 
both  to  young  and  old.  She  smiled  joyfully  in  her  dazzlin^ 
magnificence,  like  the  trembling  butterfly  on  the  needle  whkii 
transfixes  it. 

The  broad  folding-doors  were  opened,  and  the  king,  the 
queen,  and  their  children  entered.  In  the  dense  crowd  it  was 
only  possible  for  them  to  reach  the  throne  singly.  The  orches- 
tra played  a  gallopade  from  "  Gustaf,  "  precisely  that  very  one 
amid  which  the  Swedish  king  is  shot.  It  certainly  was  only 
accidentally  that  this  very  dance  was  just  then  played,  but  it 
was  easy  to  read  the  effect  which  it  produced  on  the  queen  by 
her  anxious  looks.  The  suffering  expression  of  her  features 
told  the  incessant  apprehension  which  she  felt  for  the  life  of 
her  husband  and  her  children.  Many  of  the  guests  who  stood 
tear  her  could  plainly  see  what  she,  decked  out  with  diamonds 
and  waving  bird-of-paradise  plumes,  must  endure.  Naomi,  the 
smiling,  life-enjoying  beauty,  as  she  was  called,  wore  almost 
the  same  dress,  and  every  one  who  saw  her  wished  that  the 
noble  queen  could  be  as  happy  as  she. 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  supper  was  announced.  The 
Marquis  and  Naomi  drove  home  ;  still  the  bustle  in  the  streets 
continued,  and  the  illuminations  had  not  ceased. 

"  You  sent  me  a  letter,"  said  Naomi ;  "  every  word  in  it  Is 
true.  What  do  you  wish  should  now  be  done  ? " 

"  That  you  should,  whenever  the  whim  takes  you  to  disturb 
me  in  my  pleasures,  which  every  husband  in  Paris  enjoys, 


296  ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 

read  that  letter  over  again.  For  the  rest,  I  shall  take  care 
that  no  scandal  occurs.  Next  summer  we  will  visit  the  North. 
I  will  see  the  beech  woods  of  which  you  and  your  countrymen 
so  often  have  told  me.  That  may  be  a  very  interesting  jour- 
ney for  us  both,  methinks ;  but  take  the  letter  with  you,  — 
take  it  with  you  J  there  may  very  easily  be  need  of  your  hav- 
ing it  there  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

"O  this  life  is  an  eternal  resignation  !  And  why  ?  May  it  not  be  for  « 
drlusion  ?  A  crown  of  thorns  for  a  faith,  which  perhaps  is  falsely  rested  ? 
If  now  all  that  you  thought,  ye  pale  men,  were  only  the  cruel  caprice  of 
a  dream?  O  pardon  me  this  cruel  doubt !" — GUTSKOW'S  Public  Char- 
tKters. 

"  The  stork  is  perched  on  the  peasant's  roof ; 
He  looks  the  fields  and  meadows  o'er. 
So  lovely  a  spring  day  will  then  be  ; 
Now  comes  fair  weather,  I  longed  so  for."  — INGEMANN. 

IN  Denmark,  in  the  hall  on  the  Count's  estate,  sat  the  old 
Countess  surrounded  with  her  mixture-bottles,  just  about 
as  near  to  death  as  she  was  twelve  years  before.  "  She  is 
tough,"  said  the  people  ;  "  she  may  even  outlast  the  doctor  ! " 

The  village  church  had  got  a  new  tower  ;  the  school-house 
was  built  up  again  anew  from  the  very  foundation  ;  the  white 
curtains  within  the  bright  windows  looked  very  pretty.  Two 
little  boys  were  playing  before  the  door  ;  the  dry  twigs  which 
they  had  stuck  into  the  ground  were  to  them  quite  a  blooming 
garden.  A  woman  sat  at  the  door  who  might  be  turned 
thirty ;  her  sewing  was  lying  on  her  knee  ;  she  smiled  kindly 
at  the  boys  whenever  they  asked  her  about  anything,  and  she 
frequently  raised  her  hand  to  impress  silence,  because  the 
father  was  reading  aloud  to  her  in  the  newspaper.  It  was 
Lucie  and  her  husband. 

"  Is  not  to-morrow  Sunday  again  ? "  asked  the  youngest  boy, 
who,  with  his  vivacious  brown  eyes  and  handsome  face,  made 
the  want  of  personal  beauty  in  the  elder  brother  more  strik- 
ing. 

"  To-morrow  is  Sunday ;  then  comes  the  fiddler  with  cakes 
and  pictures !  Last  Sunday  he  was  not  here  ! " 

"  Yes,  truly,  my  son  !  "  said  the  father,  as  he  laid  aside  his 
newspaper  ;  "  to-morrow  Christian  comes.  He  should  come 


2gg  ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 

gladly  every  Sunday  that  he  might  hear  the  sermon  here,  and 
not  prefer  going  to  the  meeting.  Mr.  Pastor  Patermann 
spoke  to  me  lately  about  it.  The  magistrates  have  forbidden 
the  holding  of  such-like  holy  meetings.  They  hold  their  con- 
venticles at  Peter  Hansen's,  and  now  and  then  Christian  reads 
them  a  chapter  out  of  the  Bible.  It  is  a  regular  hurly-burly ! 
I  have  heard  that  they  kept  a  young  dog  in  a  jar,  which  they 
kissed  to  show  their  humility." 

"  They  are  malicious  reports,"  said  Lucie ;  "  where  Chris- 
tian is  no  such  follies  as  those  could  take  place,  I  know  for 
certainty.  If  we  were  only  all  of  us  as  good  Christians  as  he  ! 
I  have  talked  with  him  about  it,  and  he  has  candidly  confessed 
to  me  that  he  found  the  best  edification  for  him  in  the  Bible, 
and  in  the  society  of  pious  people.  If  there  were  a  Judas 
among  the  twelve  disciples  of  Christ,  how  easily  may  there 
not  be  in  a  little  society  one  or  another  who  gives  occasion  for 
scandal  ?  Certainly  it  is  better  to  believe  too  much  than  too 
little.  They  to  whom  the  world  is  opposed  in  everything 
may  so  easily  stumble.  Well  for  those  who  only  stumble  in 
the  Bible  and  the  word  of  God  !  " 

"  What,  then,  are  the  adversities  which  Christian  has  gone 
through  ? "  replied  the  husband.  "  He  was,  to  be  sure,  a  poor 
lad  to  whom  your  mother's  brother  stood  in  the  place  of 
father.  That  he  was  somewhat  badly  off  in  Copenhagen  was 
a  fate  which  many  partake  with  him,  and  that  he  took  his 
mother  to  live  with  him  there  was  foolish  on  both  sides.  But 
that,  however,  is  now  over  and  gone !  He  brought  her  back 
again  here,  and  Christian  is  now  obliged  to  play  to  the  guilds. 
It  can  never  go  very  badly  in  the  world  with  him  who  has 
'earned  something  right  well.  He  teaches  music  at  all  the 
better  kind  of  houses,  and  his  fiddle  is  desired  at  every  wed- 
ding, lie  gets  certainly  a  good  income  now." 

"  But  it  is  not  of  so  much  consequence  how  it  is  about  us 
.n  the  world  as  how  it  is  within  us,"  said  Lucie.  "  He  set  his 
happiness  upon  making  for  himself  a  name,  and  looking 
rightly  about  him  in  the  world ;  but  he  had  nobody  who  could 
help  him  on,  and  that  certainly  belongs  to  it.  To  be  a  fiddler 
in  a  country-place  was  not  the  goal  of  his  endeavors.  But  I 
fancy  that  grace  now  has  found  its  way  to  his  heart.  When 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER  I 


299 


earthly  hope  disappointed  him,  he  took  hold  upon  heavenly 
hope." 

"Yes,  certainly,"  continued  the  husband,  "but  with  just 
the  same  overstrained  expectations.  He  ought  to  get  mar- 
ried ;  that  would  be  good  for  him.  An  old  bachelor  is,  and 
always  will  be,  a  sorrowful  sight.  Such  a  good  wife  as  you, 
Lucie,  would  have  made  quite  another  man  of  him,  for  really 
happy  he  does  not  yet  feel  himself ;  at  least,  now  and  then  a 
state  of  mind  comes  over  him  which  is  good  for  nothing  in  the 
world.  Formerly  I  did  not  like  him,  because  I  fancied  that 
he  loved  you.  Peter  Vieck,  too,  would  have  been  very  well 
pleased  if  he  could  have  made  a  couple  out  of  you." 

"  Christian's  thoughts,  in  this  respect,  were  always  far 
enough  from  me,"  replied  Lucie.  "  As  a  boy  even  he  was 
very  fond  of  little  Naomi,  and  when  she  was  grown  up  his 
whole  heart  was  devoted  to  her.  But  they,  alas !  were  not 
suited  in  any  way  for  each  other.  She  was  beautiful,  and 
that  made  a  fool  of  him.  I  told  him  that  which  was  reported 
of  her,  and  which  was  certainly  true,  that  she  was  gone  out  of 
the  country  with  a  horse-rider.  These  tidings  made  such  a 
powerful  impression  upon  him,  that  I,  since  then,  have  never 
mentioned  her  name  before  him  ;  nor  has  he  either,  from  that 
time,  ever  spoken  to  me  about  Naomi.  But  that  he  thinks  of 
her,  often  and  hourly  thinks  of  her,  and  lingers  in  thought 
upon  her,  of  that  I  am  convinced." 

"  But  now  people  say  of  her,"  continued  her  husband,  "  that 
•he  is  a  lady  of  rank  in  France.  I  have  heard  it  myself  at 
ihe  hall ;  they  say  that  she  is  coming  here  next  summer  on  a 
visit.  Thus  the  old  report  must  have  been  false,  or  else  the 
rider  perhaps  belonged  to  one  of  the  emigrant  families  who 
left  their  country  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  and  may  now 
be  come  again  to  honor  and  glory.  That  may  very  possibly 
be  the  case,  and  thus  there  are  sense  and  connectedness  in 
both  reports." 

On  the  next  Sunday  came  Christian,  the  fiddler,  as  he  was 
accustomed  to  be  called,  and  he  kissed  and  caressed  the  chil- 
dren, especially  the  youngest,  the  prettiest,  with  the  bright 
brown  eyes.  The  exterior  captivates  us;  that  he  felt  truly. 
"  If  I  had  only  been  handsome,"  the  Jght  he,  "  I  should  now 


300 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER! 


have  been  much  better  off;  the  noblest  and  the  best,  also, 
they  pay  their  homage  to  beauty.  O,  what  a  gift  of  God, 
what  a  fountain  of  happiness  and  satisfaction,  does  there  not 
lie  in  beauty  !  To  it  the  world  is  an  Eden  of  love ;  people 
meet  it  with  a  friendly  smile  upon  their  lips ;  all  love  to  be 
near  it.  His  face  attracts  one  —  he  must  be  an  excellent 
man  !  they  are  heard  to  say ;  this  countenance  cannot  lie  ! 
Here  is  soul,  and  here  beats  a  heart  in  the  bosom  !  Beauty 
is  upon  earth  a  better  gift  than  genius  and  power  of  mind  !  " 
And  he  kissed  the  most  beautiful  of  Lucie's  children  ;  to  him 
he  gave  the  prettiest  picture,  the  largest  cake. 

"  Has  not  your  stork  besought  you  to  greet  us  ? "  asked  the 
youngest  boy. 

"Yes,  many  greetings   has   he  charged   me  with,"  replied 
Christian.     "  Now  he  is  brisk  and  strong,  and  is  certainly  a 
match  for  his  comrades  at  flying  ;  and  I  am  afraid,  therefore, 
that  he  will  go  away  with  the  rest  when  they  set  out  on  their 
journey.     Storks  and  swallows  are  good  creatures,  and  there- 
fore they,  too,  may  fly  into  warm  countries  when  the  crow  am 
the  sparrow  are  frozen  to  death.     Have  I  told  you  the  histon 
of  the  stork  and  the  swallow  ?     On  Good  Friday,  as  the  Re 
deemer  hung  on  the  cross,  came  three  birds  flying  down  :  th< 
first  cried  '  Plague  him  !  plague  him  ! '  that  was  the  crow  ;  th< 
second  cried  '  Cheer  him  !  cheer  him  ! '  that  was  the  swallow 
the  third,  '  Strengthen  him !  strengthen   him  ! '  that  was  th 
stork.     Storks  and  swallows,  therefore,  bring  good  luck  an 
blessings  ;  and  therefore  they  live  in   peace,  and   everybod : 
considers  it  a  sin  to  do  them  any  harm." 

Whilst  he  was  thus  entertaining  the  children  his  thought 
tarried  with  the  stork  —  that  mystical  bird,  which  was  inter 
woven  in   all   the   recollections  of  his  childhood  :   the  storl 
upon  the  Jew's  roof,  the  stork  in  the  meadow  which  had  en 
ticed  him  out  into  the  world,  and  now  the  stork  in  his  ow 
house,  the  only  living  creature  which  he  had  about  him  in  hi 
solitude.     In   the   last  autumn,  when  the  storks  were  goin 
away,  he  heard  one  evening  a  noise  in  his  chimney,  and  as  he- 
examined  it  he  found  that  a  stork  had  fallen  down  into  it,  anc1 
that  it  had  broken  one  of  its  legs  in  the  fall.     He  bandagec 
up  the  poor  animal,  nursed  it  as  well  as  he  could,  and  in  the 


ONLY  A   F7DDLER!  30 1 

course  of  the  winter  it  became  so  accustomed  to  him  that  it 
remained  with  him  when  the  other  storks  flew  away,  and 
sought  out  a  place  for  itself  every  evening  in  the  stable. 

Lucie's  children  clung  to  Christian,  and  sprang  about  him 
in  the  meadows,  where  he  made  them  grenadier  caps  of 
rushes. 

"  One  cap,  however,  shall  be  for  your  mother,"  said  he  to 
the  lively  boys  ;  and  he  curled  it  at  the  top  and  filled  it  with 
lovely  field-flowers.  It  was  a  very  pretty  cornucopia,  and 
therefore  Lucie  took  it  and  hung  it  up  over  her  glass. 

The  dinner  table  was  now  spread  ;  the  table-cloth  was  as 
white  as  snow ;  and  to-day  there  is  something  particular,  said 
the  children. 

Every  other  Sunday,  when  the  fiddler  came,  their  mother 
had  always  a  dish  which  she  would  not  otherwise  have  had. 
He  might  also  as  well  come  every  Sunday,  as  he  had  not  so 
many  miles  to  come,  said  they. 

Christian  was  a  child  with  the  children,  and  bore  patiently 
the  hints  of  the  schoolmaster,  in  which  there  often  lay  the 
sting  of  truth. 

•'  You  will  become  a  rich  man,"  said  he  ;  "  you  must,  of 
necessity,  lay  up  money.  It  is  not  good  that  man  should  live 
alone,  therefore  take  a  wife  ;  who  else  have  you  to  inherit  what 
you  have  in  your  coffer  ?  Not  the  society,  surely,  who  would 
bring  Catholicism  again  into  the  country  ? "  And  now  the 
man  was  exactly  in  his  element ;  he  raved  against  the  Pope 
and  the  Catholic  clergy. 

"  Catholicism  has  effected  a  deal  of  good,"  replied  Chris- 
tian. "  The  seed  has  now  produced  its  harvest,  has  given 
nutriment  and  strength.  In  the  dark  ages  of  barbarism  it  was 
Catholicism  alone  which  watched  over  the  arts  and  sciences  ; 
Catholicism  engendered  the  idea  of  a  universal  human  society ; 
it  opposed  the  spiritual  to  brute  force." 

"  But  now  it  is  worn  out,"  returned  the  schoolmaster  ;  "  it  is 
become  the  oppressor  of  mind  and  of  freedom." 

"  I  think,"  said  Christian,  "  it  would  be  more  rational  to 
regard  it  as  a  hot-house,  which  in  the  winter  of  the  Middle 
Ages  was  a  real  blessing.  The  tender  plants  of  love  for  the 
sciences  shot  forth  kindly  in  the  convents  when  they  wer* 


ONLY  A  FIDDLER! 

hidden  from  the  rude  winter  which  raged  without,  and  then 
developed  themselves  for  the  approaching  summer-time.  In 
this  we  are  now  living  ;  mind  and  freedom  have  now  warm 
sunshine  without,  everything  now  grows  green  here,  and 
blooms  far  better  than  in  the  Catholic  hot-house,  in  which  the 
heat  is  artificial  and  the  verdure  has  a  sickly  hue.  With  us, 
therefore,  it  is  better  in  the  open  air ;  here  everything  attains 
full  growth,  whilst  in  the  hot-house  all  remains  as  it  has  ever 
been :  yes,  there  are  fewer  noble  trees  there,  because  many 
now  grow  out  in  the  open  sunshine." 

"  What,  are  you  again  having  a  wrestling  match  ? "  said 
Lucie,  half-jestingly. 

"  He  holds  by  the  Catholics,"  replied  the  husband :  "  there 
is  no  longer  any  dealing  with  him." 

"  I  only  wish  that  people  would  cover  all  religious  sects 
with  the  mantle  of  love,"  said  Christian.  "  I  will  sometime 
bring  with  me  a  Catholic  hymn,  which  I  obtained  from  an 
Italian,  who  told  me  that  it  was  sung  at  Easter  by  the  peasants 
on  the  mountains.  In  that  there  is  as  true  Christianity  as  in 
our  church  hymns." 

The  sun  had  set  and  the  children  were  asleep  when  Chris- 
tian took  his  way  back  to  his  solitary  home,  at  a  few  miles' 
distance.  It  was  one  of  those  beautiful  moonlight  evenings 
which  the  painter  seizes  upon  in  order  to  fix  it  on  his  canvas, 
and  which  inspires  the  poet  to  beautiful  songs.  The  splendid 
beauty  of  this  evening  made,  also,  the  most  lively  impression 
upon  Christian  ;  he  enjoyed  one  of  those  moments  in  which 
he  again  became  aware  that,  as  it  were,  a  great  intellectual 
treasure  lay  concealed  within  him,  which,  like  a  star,  required 
only  the  favorable  hour  of  midnight  to  be  drawn  forth  out  of 
concealment :  but  soon  all  was  again  extinguished  around  him, 
ind  the  hope  alone  remained  to  him  that  in  another  and  a 
higher  world  that  hour  would  arrive.  Before,  however,  he  had 
gone  half  way  he  was  no  longer  still  and  joyful  like  the  beau- 
tiful scene  which  surrounded  him.  But  could  he  not  have 
been  happy  ?  No  heart  had  attached  itself  to  him  with  un- 
divided love,  and  then  faithlessly  torn  itself  away  from  him. 
People  loved  him  wherever  he  came,  and  he  could  look  forward 
*o  the  morrow  without  anxiety  about  his  daily  bread.  Nor  was 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  303 

he  one  of  those  who  are  elevated  through  the  influence  of 
some  powerful  patron,  who  had  to  endure  with  gratitude  being 
looked  down  upon  ;  nor  the  poor  man  who  had  to  thank  that 
patron  for  all  that  he  was.  Neither  had  he  the  pain  of  seeing 
how  the  object  of  his  love  daily  received  the  kiss  of  another, 
how  she  incessantly  dreamed  of  another  whilst  she  was  kind 
and  gentle  to  him,  and  accepted,  also,  his  homage.  It  needed 
not  that  he  should  smile  to  avoid  betraying  his  sufferings.  His 
life  had  had  to  bear  no  one  crushing  misfortune.  The  preacher 
might  have  said  over  his  grave,  "  His  days  glided  away  in  un- 
pretending contentment ;  no  thunder-cloud  hung  threateningly 
over  his  head."  No  !  there  lay  a  perpetual,  never-changing 
mist-cloud  before  his  eyes ;  one  might  look  at  it  so  long  that 
one  at  last  imagined  one  saw  the  bright,  blue  heaven. 

There  was  no  one  in  his  home  to  welcome  him  —  he  was 
here  solitary.  Solitary  and  forlorn  he  abode,  as  one  day  all 
will  abide  solitary  and  forlorn  in  their  graves.  He  kindled  a 
light,  laid  aside  his  hat  and  his  stick,  closed  the  shutters,  and 
then  looked  after  the  stork,  which  he  already  found  sleeping. 
He  then  returned  to  his  room  and  opened  the  blue  coffer :  in 
the  secret  drawer  there  lay  two  heavy  purses  ;  he  emptied  their 
contents  slowly  on  the  table,  counted  the  bright  dollars, 
wrapped  them  in  paper,  and  smiled  as  he  had  smiled  on 
Lucie's  children. 

"  I  have  already  saved  so  much ! "  said  he  to  himself. 
"  This  treasure  is  for  her !  She  will  come  back  some  day  or 
other  in  her  great  need  ;  her  own  connections  will  not  ac- 
knowledge her  —  but  I  will  then  be  a  brother  to  her;  she 
shall  not  endure  want ! "  And  again  he  smiled  when  he 
thought  on  the  prodigal  Naomi. 

Youthful  folly  had  taken  her  out  into  the  world ;  that  could 
come  to  no  good  end.  Some  time  or  other  she  would  come 
back  with  a  wandering  troop,  poor  and  sickly ;  he  had  once 
dreamed  so,  and  he  believed  it  firmly  and  surely.  How  often 
he  went  to  the  public-house,  or  to  the  next  village  whenever 
he  heard  of  jugglers  being  come  there !  He  sought  for  Naomi 
because  for  her  he  had  really  saved  the  bright  dollars. 

The  Bible,  the  fiddle,  and  the  stork,  were  his  three  friends. 
The  creature  hopped  out  of  the  garden  into  his  room,  flew 


A   FIDDLER! 

into  the  birch  wood  on  the  other  side  of  the  meadow,  and  al 
ways  came  back  again  to  its  stable. 

"  But  wilt  thou  stop  with  me  over  the  winter  ?  "  said  he  to 
the  dumb  animal  ;  "  wilt  thou  not  fly  away  with  thy  race  to- 
ward the  warm  countries  ?  Ah,  fly  !  but  who  could  fly  ?  I 
at  one  time  hoped  to  advance  far,  but  I  am  compelled  to  stay 
here,  and  never  shall  go  forth  !  Thou  wilt  perhaps  see  her ! 
Perhaps  thou  wilt  fly  over  the  grave  of  my  father  !  "  With 
this  he  took  a  red  ribbon,  wrote  upon  it  the  words,  "  Greeting 
out  of  Denmark  !  "  and  binding  it  around  the  stork's  leg  said, 
"  Fly  now  away,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  with  the  rest,  but 
come  back  again  in  spring  !  Thirteen  years  is  it  now  since  I 
saw  her  for  the  last  time  :  she. may  have  changed  very  much  in 
this  time  :  but  she  remains  in  my  mind  just  as  young  and  as 
beautiful,  with  the  very  same  proud  glance,  as  when  she  left 
me  in  the  public-house.  O,  if  I  had  but  been  as  handsome  as 
the  horse-rider !  "  His  thoughts  flew  far  forth  into  the  world. 

"How  often  children,  as  well  boys  as  girls,  are  ugly  in 
their  early  youth,  and  after  some  years,  when  their  features 
and  forms  become  developed,  we  see  that  plainness  in  them 
changed  into  beauty,  and  we  love  them  because  of  it.  Thus 
will  it  also  be  after  death ;  in  the  new  life  they,  whose  exte- 
rior repelled  us  here,  will  there  win  us  to  them  and  be  beloved 
by  us,  when  the  hard  forms  change  themselves  into  beautiful 
features.  Our  human  bodies  are,  indeed,  only  a  mask ;  the 
ragged  beggar  may  be  a  stately  nobleman  when  the  clothing 
of  poverty  falls  off."  Such  was  Christian's  quiet  dream. 

September,  the  glorious  period  of  Danish  scenery,  was 
come  ;  he  then  dreamed  the  strangest  thing  about  Naomi,  and 
as  in  so  doing  he  woke,  the  dream  was  vividly  impressed  upon 
his  mind ;  in  the  morning  hour,  however,  the  remembrance 
of  it  was  gone  from  him.  The  only  thing  that  he  could  re- 
call was,  that  she  had  leaned  her  head  upon  his  breast  and 
had  said,  "  I  die  !  grant  to  me  a  grave  in  thy  flower-garden !  " 

This  dream  depressed  his  mind.  He  read  a  hymn,  and 
sought  for  words  of  consolation  in  his  Bible. 

On  the  following  afternoon  as  he  went  through  the  village, 
he  heard  the.  sound  of  a  trumpet  and  the  merry  cries  and 
shouts  of  peasants  and  boys.  Old  women  stood  behind  theif 
garden  doors,  and  looked  along  the  village  street. 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  305 

44  What  is  there  to  be  seen  ?  "  asked  Christian.  "  They  are 
players  who  will  exhibit  their  arts  in  the  public-house,"  was 
the  reply 

And  now  he  saw  a  man  in  a  dirty  and  miserable  comedy- 
suit,  riding  upon  a  wretched  horse.  Upon  the  man's  knee  sat 
a  little  girl  with  beautiful  dark  eyes,  who  held  a  tambourine  in 
her  hand.  He  announced  with  a  loud  voice  that  the  most 
glorious  comedy,  with  movable  puppets,  would  be  given  this 
afternoon  in  the  public-house  ;  and  also,  at  the  same  time,  all 
kinds  of  unimaginable  sleight-of-hand  tricks  would  be  exhib- 
ited :  all  of  which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  succeeded.  His 
face  was  painted  white  ;  he  made  the  most  horrible  grimaces. 
The  little  girl  looked  sickly,  and  as  often  as  the  father  blew 
the  trumpet  she  struck  the  tambourine. 

Christian  remembered  his  dream,  and  thought  of  Naomi. 
If  that  should  be  her  husband,  her  child  ?  He  went  to  the 
public-house. 

There  stood  in  the  yard  the  caravan  of  the  juggler  family, 
provided  with  its  canvas  covering  ;  upon  its  tent-like  top  lay 
an  old  bed-quilt  to  dry.  The  wretched  theatre  was  erected  in 
the  stable,  and  the  dirty  and  tattered  puppets  lay  and  hung 
about.  A  stout  woman  with  a  dark  countenance,  and  with  un- 
covered black  hair,  which  was  turning  gray,  sat  near  it,  and 
had  a  little  boy  on  her  knee.  She  was  very  untidily  dressed, 
and  was  feeding  the  child.  A  somewhat  younger  woman  sat 
near  to  her,  who  was  occupied  in  fastening  stars  of  gold-paper 
on  the  breast  of  a  large  wooden  puppet.  Christian  spoke  to 
her ;  his  voice  trembled ;  but  he  was  soon  convinced  that 
neither  of  them  was  Naomi. 

How  often  had  he  not  already  been  deceived  in  a  similar 
way !  and  yet  he  was  glad  that  the  lost  one  was  not  found 
again  in  this  company.  The  view  of  so  much  poverty,  and  the 
recollection  of  his  dream,  moved  him  deeply. 

When  he  returned  again  to  his  dwelling  he  missed  the  stork. 
*'  He  will  be  coming ! "  thought  he,  and  therefore  left  the 
•table-door  standing  open.  "  Who  knows  whether  he  be  not 
already  gone  across  the  salt  sea  with  the  others  !  The  leaves 
Kecome  yellower  every  day." 

This  night  he  slept  very  uneasUy ;  he  rose  with  the  sun,  and 


306  ONLY  A  FIDDLEK! 

went  into  his  little  garden.  Yes,  Naomi  had  besought  him, 
in  his  dream,  to  give  her  here  a  grave.  Suddenly  he  heard  in 
the  meadow  beyond  a  strange  rushing  sound,  and  saw  im 
mediately  how  the  storks  were  circling  by  hundreds  in  wild 
confusion  in  the  air.  They  were  trying  and  proving  their 
strength,  as  the  country  people  say.  He  saw  how  some  of 
them  were  tumbled  over  by  the  others,  and  struck  to  death 
with  their  sharp  beaks.  After  that  the  whole  flock,  amid  a 
universal  clattering,  flew  aloft  in  the  air  and  vanished. 

Christian  went  into  the  meadow.  Here  lay  seven  storks 
dead  in  the  grass  ;  the  feathers  which  had  been  plucked  out 
were  still  flying  in  the  air. 

**  Nature  did  not  give  you  strength  enough,  and  therefore 
you  must  die,  you  poor  creatures !  You  could  not  fly  with 
them  into  warmer  countries  !  "  said  he,  pensively,  as  he  looked 
around  him.  There  lay  one  among  the  dead  which  had  a  red 
ribbon  bound  around  its  leg.  Christian  raised  it  up  and  took 
it  in  his  arms :  the  creature  was  still  warm,  the  blood  flecked 
the  white  feathers,  and  the  long  neck  hung  down  dead.  It 
was  his  stork ;  he  pressed  it  to  his  breast. 

"  Thus  is  my  dream  fulfilled  !  "  said  he.  "  Thee,  not  her, 
I  hold  in  my  arms  !  Thou  shalt  have  a  grave  among  the 
flowers  of  my  garden  ! "  And  he  kissed  the  dead  bird, 
pulled  a  white  and  a  black  feather  out  of  its  wings,  and 
placed  them  above  his  looking-glass.  He  then  went  into 
the  garden,  dug  a  grave,  scattered  it  with  green  leaves, 
aid  the  stork  in  it,  and  covered  it  again  with  earth.  The 
wild  rose-tree,  full  of  yellow-green  fruit,  stood  above  the 
grave  of  the  bird. 

"  Now  am  I  again  alone  ! "  sighed  the  deserted  Christian. 
"  Thou  wilt  not  come  back  to  me  again  when  the  spring  re- 
turns !  Dead  Rest  thou  there !  —  Dead  ?  All  of  us  will  die 
one  day  !  We  shall  lose  everything !  Why  do  we  not  live  for 
the  passing  time  ?  Why  should  we  not  be  happy  ?  —  Certainly ! 
I  will  rightly  enjoy  the  last  sunshine  of  this  year ;  I  will  glad- 
den myself  with  the  cheerful  frosty  weather,  and  will  greet 
coming  spring  joyfully." 

But  with  the  winter  came  only  rain,  thaw,  snow,  and  dark 
days.  The  trees  in  the  wood  dripped  with  water ;  then 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  307 

dark  twigs  looked  in  the  mist  as  if  they  were  wrapped  in  cob- 
web. The  whole  of  nature  was  a  larva,  which  not  until 
months  were  passed  would  come  forth  in  the  warmth-giving 
beams  of  the  sun. 

Christian  became  poorly,  yet  still  he  was,  every  other  Sun- 
day, a  certain  and  welcome  gu«et  in  Lucie's  house ;  but  only 
every  other  Sunday.  It  surprised  her,  therefore,  when  he 
came  during  the  week,  and  was  looking  uncommonly  pale. 

"  I  am  very  well,"  said  he,  "  but  I  had  not  much  to  do, 
and  I  longed  to  see  the  children,  and  so  I  am  come." 

He  had  besides  this  also  heard  some  news  ;  but  he  did  no? 
sneak  of  that  until  later.  The  gardener  at  the  hall  had  told 
him  that  in  the  spring  strangers  were  expected  there ;  one 
of  them  a  French  gentleman  of  family,  with  his  wife,  and  that 
this  lady  was  Naomi.  She  had  been  married  to  this  gentleman 
many  years  ago,  was  very  rich,  and  of  high  rank.  As  he  said 
this  the  tears  were  in  his  eyes.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not 
feel  very  well ;  every  trifle  goes  to  my  heart." 

Lucie  offered  him  her  hand. 

How  solitary  and  forlorn  was  his  home  to  him  now !  How 
often  had  he  counted  his  treasure  when  he  thought  on  Naomi ! 
Now  the  little  secret  drawer  was  no  more  opened  ;  the  bright 
dollars  were  no  longer  counted. 

The  winter  was  long,  and  so  dark  !  —  but  it  was  a  good 
winter  for  the  poor,  people  said,  because  the  frost  was  not 
severe.  But  there  was  so  much  mist,  so  very  much  mist ;  the 
air  was  always  gray  !  It  was  an  autumn  which  extended  far 
into  the  spring. 

When  the  friendly  sun  shone  on  the  first  beautiful  day  of 
May,  Lucie's  children  stood  mournfully  by  Christian's  sick-bed ; 
cheir  mother  nursed  him. 

"  Thank  thee  for  all  thy  love,  Lucie,"  said  Christian. 
"  Here  is  it  still  good  in  the  world,  and  the  people  are  also 
good.  I  now  am  quite  convinced  of  that  which  thou  saidst 
to  me  many  years  ago  :  '  The  common  gifts  to  man  are  so 
great,  that  it  is  sinful  to  desire  uncommon  abilities  from  the 
Divinity.'  He  who  is  placed  aloft  is  exposed  to  the  sharp 
w'nds  ;  we  who  stand  lowly  feel  them  not.  Dost  thou  not 
know  the  beautiful  hymn,— 


308  ONLY  A   FIDDLER ! 

1  Within  the  vale  grow  roses  sweet, 
And  Jesus  there  we  meet  ? ' 

The  ma.i  who  distinguishes  himself,  stands  in  the  beams  of 
the  san  ;  but  those  beams  scorch  him.  We  might,  therefore, 
envy  him,  that  to  him  was  lent  a  greater  susceptibility  for  the 
enjoyment  of  that  which  surrounds  him,  were  it  not  that  with 
this  quick  sense  he  is  also  more  susceptible  than  we  to  that 
which  gives  pain.  He  gives  with  a  warm  heart  what  others 
receive  coldly ;  he  invites  us  to  a  feast,  and  we  go,  like  the 
evil  birds  of  which  I  have  read  —  the  harpies,  to  defile  him." 

Thus,  no  longer  himself,  he  censured  the  whole  human  race, 
though  he  but  a  few  moments  before  had  called  them  good 
and  full  of  love. 

"  Our  thoughts  are  vain,  our  deeds  are  nothing,"  continued 
he.  "That  which  we  call  great  and  immortal,  will  be  one 
day  like  the  charcoal  inscription  on  the  prison  walls :  it  is 
visited  with  curiosity,  and  gazed  at. 

"  When  I  am  dead,  give  my  Bible  to  thy  children.  There 
lies  within  it  a  treasure  which  can  be  corrupted  neither  by 
moth  nor  by  rust.  I  should  like  to  see  Naomi  before  I  die," 
said  he  with  a  glorified  look ;  "  yes,  I  shall  see  her  again  — 
that  I  feel ! " 

"  Do  not  talk  of  dying,"  prayed  Lucie.  "  Thou  wilt  not 
die  yet ;  we  shall  still  live  many  years  together !  " 


The  swallows  were  come  and  the  stork  sat  again  upon  his 
nest :  the  Dane  was  proud  of  his  green  woods.  At  that  time 
Lucie  laid  together  the  hands  of  the  dead,  closed  his  eyes, 
and  showed  the  children,  for  the  last  time,  the  dear,  good 
Christian  ;  and  the  little  ones  wept  aloud. 

"  It  is  well  with  him,"  said  she  ;  "  better  than  it  ever  was 
before." 

The  coffin-lid  was  screwed  down,  and  peasants  carried  the 
simple  coffin  from  the  house ;  Lucie,  her  husband,  and  her 
children,  followed  the  body.  The  road  to  the  church-yard  was 
narrow;  there  came  driving  along  it  a  gentleman's  carriage 
with  four  horses.  They  were  strangers  who  were  driving  to 


ONLY  A   FIDDLER!  309 

the  hall ;  it  was  the  French  Marquis  and  the  honorable 
Naomi. 

The  peasants  stepped  into  the  ditch  with  the  coffin,  to  give 
the  great  gentlefolks  room  to  pass ;  they  uncovered  their 
heads  respectfully ;  and  the  noble  lady,  with  the  proud  look 
and  the  charming  smile,  looked  from  the  window  and  bowed. 

He  was  only  a  poor  man  whom  they  bore  to  the  grave  — 
only  a  fiddler ! 


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THE  T.TTWARY 

UNlVEKSli  Y   ut   CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


••     ••  •    I      Illl     II    II    I    I    II 

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